


The IronMandalorian

by FerretShark



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Death, BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Tony Stark, Bugs as food, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Mutism, Non-Graphic Violence, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, organic webs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FerretShark/pseuds/FerretShark
Summary: This is an Irondad fusion between The Mandalorian and the MCU with a lot elements of both:He had been hoping for republic credits at the most, but this is Beskar. A lot of it. With this much he could repair his armor and still have a lot left over to bank. It was a king’s ransom, he’d never had a target command this kind of fee. He says nothing but the other man is watching him knowingly.“So you will take the job.”Uh, yes, he would take the job and he’d do anything to complete it.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 72
Kudos: 192





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am pretty happy to say that even if you hadn't seen The Mandalorian, this shouldn't spoil much for you. They can be enjoyed independently on their own merits.  
> Also no baby from the same race as Yoda in this particular work. I'm sad about it too. Soooo cute.  
> If you want some mood music, Google: Star Wars: The Mandalorian Theme | 1 Hour Epic Music Mix  
> This work is fully written and will update daily.

Tony is walking across the desert, the sand kicking up around his feet. The burning suns are merciless, they bake his skin, dry his eyes and mouth. His eyes search the lavender sky for some sign of salvation, there’s nothing there.

He had no spit left, every breath scalds his nose and throat. Tony’s dragging himself along by pure stubbornness at this point, his shuffling progress leaving shallow furrows in the scorching sand. He’s lost all sense of time and self. He lifts his hands to shield his face, searching the empty skies.

Strength fading along with hope, he trips over the rags wrapped around his feet and hits the dune hard. God he hates the sand; it’s found its way into every crevice, slowly buffing away the tender flesh. He finds he no longer has the strength to get up, he curls into himself and waits for death.

When the touch comes, he thinks he’s imagined it. A gentle probing, then rougher. He jerks away, eyes flying open. The mask looms over him. 

Deep Space  
Aboard the Silver Centurion  
Present Day

Tony jolts awake, and rolls to the side,choking on panic as memories fill the cabin. His heart is still racing, the dutiful hum of his ship can’t comfort him. 

“Where are we?” He chokes out.

“We are approximately 77 parsecs from Outpost 736B.” The sound of her voice soothes him.

“Set course for Greef Karga.” Tony says, rising from his bunk.

“Setting course.”

He rises, wets a rag and gives himself a cursory cleaning. 

The water from the sink washes away the nightmare. Could you call it a nightmare if it actually happened? He abandons that line of thought. He slips his mask over his face, it hums as it comes online, a soft blue glow coming from the grooved faceplate. 

The armor was unique to the Madalorian that wore it. His mask was a mix of dull silver and gunmetal gray. The T shaped visual plate creates the illusion of cold eyes, the bottom an impassive mouth. It had been presented to him when he had been sworn into the order four years prior. Tony had, of course, installed a few upgrades since then. 

Unfortunately, the life of a bounty hunter is rough on the equipment. His armor is beginning to look shabby and the leg plates are long gone, but he’s temporarily replaced them with gorra leather sewn to his chaps. 

“We are on course for Greef Karga. I’ll take the liberty of maneuvering us around any outposts.” His AI informs him.

“Thanks MAI” He says sincerely.

“You are welcome.” Her voice is bright, always sounding like she’s smiling. At least _that_ he’s gotten right, even if her name wasn’t particularly inspired, Mainframe Artificial Intelligence. No point in getting creative.

Tony was a Mandalorian now, it’s less of a race and more of a Creed. Granted, his application of said creed was on his own terms. He took a moment to reflect, he had been castoff and displaced. That was punishment for being foolish and overly trusting in his thinking. He’d been a child, he thinks furiously. And Obie had manipulated him, twisted his trust and used it to send Tony off to his death. Unfortunately for Obie, Tony was too stubborn to die, and then he had been reborn in Beskarian iron as one of the Order of the Mandalore. 

Once he’d recovered on Mandalorian planet, he’d already known that he couldn’t go back, it had been too dangerous. With Obie at the helm of his father’s fortune, he couldn’t be sure he’d last even six months in Coruscant. So now he’s halfheartedly committed to the life of a soldier of fortune, but it’s only a means to an end. He’s quietly stocking away his fees, waiting for the right moment to strike back and if not take back what’s rightfully his, at least leave it unrecognizable ruins. 

Tony tamps down on the memories, burying them deep. He doesn’t want any vestiges to the life he's been forced to leave behind. The life stolen from him he thinks bitterly. 

For now he lives for the work. He’s a Bounty Hunter with some renown, that part Tony enjoys. It’s a good distraction from the anger.

Greef Karga  
Outer Rim  
Settlement home of the Bounty Hunters Guild  
Cantina

Six hours later he’s landed on the rocky planet. He steps out onto the volcanic soil and it crumbles easily under his boots. There’s a mineral tang in the air from the ash and he’s grateful for the filtration system inside his helmet. 

Tony makes ready to deliver his cargo to the Director. He stacks the gunmetal gray slabs onto the pallet while ancient cargo droids beep impatiently, waiting for him to complete the task. It’s easier to transport prisoners this way, although some might call it cruel. Tony thinks of it as convenient, bounty hunting is already a complicated profession. 

Once caught, the Asset is placed in a chamber where they're chemically locked in suspended animation and then physically contained in frozen carbon. The rapid process keeps them preserved quite well and contained even better. After that the icy blocks can be stored together indefinitely, the prisoners trapped and unconscious until Tony is ready to trade them in for their bounties. 

He finishes unloading the carbonite encased prisoners and an admin droid dutifully scans the barcodes into the system, registering his captures.

Tony leaves the docking bay and makes his way unhurriedly through the crowded spaceport to the cafe. A few beings spare him curious glances. Number dwindling, Mandalorians are still a curiosity to most. Tony ignores them, he knows the Director will be waiting.

Truth be told he’s eager to settle this, collect his spoils and move on to the next catch, but you can’t look too eager, not when there’s money involved. 

“Mando!” The man shouts, bright with false cheer. “My droids tell me you’ve brought in seven.”

“What can I say?” Tony spreads his arms wide. With his face constantly hidden beneath the mask, he relies more on body language to set himself apart. It’s all part of the marketing. “I’ve successfully privatized galactic peace, you’re welcome.”

Director Nick Fury laughs and offers him a seat. The man controls one of the largest Bounty Hunting Guides in this quadrant of the galaxy. “I think not even you could accomplish that. Which is good because then we’d both be out of a job.” Fury arches an eyebrow. He reaches into a leather side-satchel and pulls out a stack of gray credit chips. He counts out Tony’s payment and slides the stack across the table.

The Mandalorian makes no move to pick them up, “These are Imperial credits.”

“They still spend,” Fury deflects silkily, sitting back with a shrug.

Tony pushes them back across the table in a single sharp movement. “This isn’t what we agreed on.” 

There’s a flash of annoyance across the other man’s face. “Things are changing Mando, we can’t afford to be choosy.” 

“Maybe you can’t.” Tony snaps back, still making no move to take the currency. 

Fury sighs and pulls a short stack of Republic credits from inside of his vest. “This is all I have.”

It's less than Tony was expecting, but not by much. Good thing he knows better than to take the Director’s first offer.

“It will do.” Tony picks them and tucks them into his belt.

“Let me guess, you also want another assignment?” 

“Anything new?” Tony asks.

“This is what I have left.” Fury spills 5 holo chips across the table.

Tony flips through them. All too easy and the payouts are an insult. Boring.  
“I’ll take them.” He says anyway, moving to scoop up all five, but Fury covers them before he can.

“You’re not the only bounty hunter around. I have other clients.” 

“Not like me.” Tony had never been known for his humility.

“That’s true.” Director Fury allows.”Maybe I could hire you? I have a few things that I could use a man with your particular skill set.”

“You couldn’t afford me.” He drawls, making the other man laugh.

“That’s probably true.” There’s something there, a glint in Fury’s eyes that’s suddenly gone. He’s hiding something, Tony’s certain of it. It’s dangerous too, if he had to wager a guess. Otherwise, the Director would have already put it on the table. 

“You got anything else?” He hasn’t gotten this far by not relying on his instincts. 

“There is one.” Fury smiles but there’s no warmth to it.

“I’ll take it.” Tony says, not even hesitating at Fury’s sudden change in demeanor. Nothing matters but banking the money. He’s already reaching for the nonexistent holodisk.

“Not so fast.” Fury drawls, blocking his hand. “This is just a location. This client requires discretion.”

“I can be discreet.”

“Can you?” Fury asks as he leans back in his seat.  
They both knew that sometimes Tony employed a bit of unnecessary flair in his captures, but he always got his target. Except that one time, but he’s more than made up for it since.

Tony’s grateful for the mask that keeps his face impassive even with the current of irritation running through him. They regard each other in a moment of silent standoff before Fury relents  
“I think you can do it. Hell, you might be the only one who can.” He produces a tiny metal cylinder and flicks it open with his thumb. Inside rests a curl of paper. It’s quite a change from the normal holopucks or tablet. Fury gives the cylinder another shake and a tiny chip falls out into his palm along with the paper. He passes them to Tony. 

Tony huffs out a laugh as he holds the delicate scroll in his gloved fingers. Coordinates are scratched on it in rust colored ink. “This is pretty old school.” 

“Yeah, they’re a weird bunch. I suggest you approach it with caution.” Fury grimaces.

Tony pockets the paper and stands up abruptly. Their business is concluded and he’s itching to get moving. 

“Good luck, Mando.” Fury calls, but Tony is already walking away. 

Nevarro  
Galactic Expansion Region  
A rock world with mossy vegetation  
Republic Supply Outpost 

In the end, Tony finds the place easily enough. It’s located in the center of an old and dusty city settlement. His guidance system leads him down a dark alleyway, but he decides to do some reconnaissance first. 

He finds a rusted ladder and uses it to make himself comfortable on a roof across the street and watches through his electrobinoculars. None of the passing crowd spare the faded green doorway a glance. Nothing suspicious that he can see, but maybe the lack of activity is it’s own red flag. The whole thing is strange. Fury’s hesitance, the innocent looking doorway, the stupid tiny scroll. The obscene amount of credits they’re offering. Tony weighs his options as the shadows grow in the alleyway. 

Something about this whole operation feels off. Who uses paper over holopucks anyway? Someone that definitely wants to maintain a low profile. Going to these lengths meant the Asset was probably dangerous. But sometimes the more dangerous the job, the more lucrative the payout. 

Eventually, he decides the potential payoff is worth the risk. He ventures down to the street and holds up the chip Fury had given him in front of the scanner. A panel opens and a more sophisticated optical bot scans him head to toe. 

There’s a whir of locks and the metal door sweeps open, admitting him. Tony steps in, infusing his steps with confidence. He’s a Mandalorian and a damn good one, time to sell it. He adds a bit of swagger to his hips as he follows the small house droid deeper into the building. 

He finds himself in the main room, the ceilings are tall and painted a stark white. There are no windows. In the center is a table with a well dressed man. His robes are a spotless cream and knit from a fine wool that probably had cost more than Tony’s last 3 bounties combined. 

The man is flanked by four soldiers, all wearing black masks and holding blasters. The red Hydra symbol is easily visible on their shoulder patches. Remnants of the fallen empire, still active. Interesting and none of his business. 

“Your reputation precedes you.” The man greets him, not particularly warm but with respect.

Tony nods, saying nothing. He’s glad for the mask that hides the tracking of his eyes. There are six legged spider bots that sit high in the corners. He can see their red optical units scanning the room. It doesn’t make him worried exactly, but it does raise his awareness of the stakes here. This is a lot of fire power for a backwater planet. He balks at making himself comfortable, everything about this place screams danger.

“Please, Mandalorian, have a seat.”

He does, uneasily. 

The man smiles widely. “I am Commandant Osborn and this is my associate Dr. Octavius.” He gestures to a nervous looking man standing behind him.Tony notes the lab coat and large goggles, freaky. 

Tony isn’t interested in playing at introductions. “Tell me about the target.” He demands.

“Very well. We are seeking the return of an Asset. We would prefer this target to be returned to us alive.” He says pointedly. “I do understand that bounty hunting can be an ...unpredictable business so termination is also acceptable for a much reduced fee. But I would require proof of extermination.”

“I can bring it in alive.” Tony says off-handedly. No point in being modest. After all, he was the best. “How do I find it?”

“You get right to the point.” The man smiles, all teeth. “I like that.” He reaches under the table and Tony imperceptibly tenses, then relaxes as only a tracker is produced.

“I’m afraid this is all we have.” Commandant says.

Tony takes the little square gray box, in the center a red light blinks. “A bio-proximity tracker? This is a bit rudimentary. No other identifying details?”

The man shrugs.”I’m afraid not, but this should be more than enough for a man of your abilities.”

It was, but it wouldn’t make things particularly easy. “Do you have a general location?” Tony asks. “It’s a big galaxy out there, gentlemen.”

“Only a star system,” the man produces a yellowed piece of paper from the folds of his robes. 

He starts to slide it across the table. Again with the paper, very curious. Tony doesn’t reach for it, he doesn't want to seem too eager. He also wants to iron out a little matter first. The most important matter.

“There’s an issue of payment.” He says baldly. “I was told that this was a ‘high value’ target.”

The man laughs. “Of course.” Osborne gestures to one of the soldiers. 

The man puts down his blaster and picks up a containment cylinder. There’s a swish of the fine woolen robe as Osborne presses his fingers to the identification plate. The front panel swings open to reveal stacks of Beskar. Tony allows himself no outward reaction, but inside he’s excited. 

He had been hoping for republic credits at the most, but this is Beskar. A lot of it. With this much he could repair his armor and still have a lot left over to bank. It was a king’s ransom, he’d never had a target command this kind of fee. He says nothing but the other man is watching him knowingly.

“So you will take the job.”

Uh, yes, he would take the job and he’d do anything to complete it.


	2. Chapter 2

Arvala-7  
Part of the Inner Reaches Binary Star System  
A Desert, Vapor Farming World

A week later, Tony opens the hatch to find himself on a desert world - great. The wide, empty stretches of sand gives him an uneasy feeling. He steps down the ramp, his fingers of his left hand straying to the hidden compartment in his armor where the proximity tracker was safely stored. 

A faint growl is all the warning he gets before something slams into his back and knocks him to the ground. He rolls away, slipping in the sand as he tries to gain purchase. He gets hit again, by a large, clawed foot. He reaches for the input on his arm, engaging the sand setting.

Tony rolls into a crouch, finally able to plant his feet. Two large green beasts are stalking him in tandem. They are green and scaly with tiny front arms and enormous, powerful back legs. Large tails trail out behind them, affording them extra balance on the sandy ground. However, the most unsettling thing was their frankly huge mouths filled with short, pointed teeth. 

One stalks closer, he fumbles for his phase-pulse blaster, but he doesn't think he can get to it in time. 

The thing plants its large feet, does a little shimmy and leaps toward him. He throws out an arm, releasing a small rocket. The projectile tears through the leathery hide. The creature falls down dead. An unfortunate loss, but his life is at stake. 

Tony turns toward the second creature, prepared to give it the same treatment. He’s just lining up his shot when a voice comes from behind him.

“That would be a waste.”

He turns in surprise. A person sits perched atop what seems to be a tamed version of the creatures Tony has been busy fighting. Tony eyes search the newcomer for threats, but his clothing marks him as a moisture farmer. His features are tan and his cheeks droop into jowls. Tony recognizes him as a race of people that called themselves Ugnaughts. The white hair dusting his brows and cheeks mark his age. 

“Enjoying the show?” Tony snaps.

The farmer’s face is impassive but his posture conveys amusement. He doesn’t respond to Tony’s question.

It’s rare that anyone gets the drop on Tony these days. He’s honed his skills for years and exists in a near constant state of hyper-vigilance. “And you are?” He addresses the Ugnaught, putting a little threat into his question. 

“I am Kuiil. And I am going to help you.”

He blinks under his mask. “You are? For payment? I don’t have...” This was a lie, he did have, he just wasn’t really inclined to share.

The farmer gestures toward the surviving creature. It had been pacing uncertainty, but is now slowly creeping closer. “The blurrg will suffice.” The thing rears up and brays with it’s enormous mouth, full of rows of teeth. 

“Not very friendly is he?” Tony comments, eyeing it warily, from under his mask.

“This is a female. The males have already died off for the season” The farmer answers gruffly, dismounting his own steed. 

“Oh, well, we didn’t have time to exchange pleasantries.” Tony says wryly. “ Excuse me, did you say you would help me?”

“I will. You are a Mandalorian. The others that come through, they only brought destruction. You will bring peace.” The farmer says. 

Tony cocks his head, “You think I came here to play peacekeeper?” 

The Ugnaught farmer had pulled out a stun stick and a bridle from his bags. He turns toward the feral blurrg. 

“No, but in this case, you will stop the endless stream of others. They are hard on the land. They pollute the water and take all the food. What good are Republic credits out here? We cannot eat money.”

A thought occurs to Tony. “Have you helped any of the others?”

“Yes.” Kuiil jabs the living blurrg with the stun stick when it charges him, stunning it.

It instantly falls into a stupor. Tony side-steps its head as it stumbles and falls near his feet. 

“What happened to them?” He wants to know.

Kuiil the farmer slips the bridle over the insensate blurrg’s ugly head. “They are all dead. But you are a Mandalorian. You will succeed where they failed.” He turns his eyes to Tony. “I have spoken.” 

He says it with some finality and Tony doesn’t argue. 

The Ugnaught pushes the fallen blurrg with his booted foot and it staggers back onto its feet, following him docilely through the sand. It bears no resemblance to the things that had attacked him earlier. 

Tony takes the opportunity to grab what supplies he needs from his ship and secure it. 

“Which way?” He asks, Kuiil is already mounted with his newest blurrg tied behind him.

“It is many kilometers. I will guide you.”The farmer says decisively.

“That’s not really necessary.” Tony just wants to get this over with. It’s starting to sound like he might not be the only one after this bounty. With the fee as high as it is, he’s really not surprised.

Normally, he might try to argue further or hurry things along because, frack, it was tedious to depend on someone else. He couldn’t afford to burn bridges though, experience has taught him the value of an informant on the ground. He’s going to have to work to curb his frustration because there’s too much at stake. 

He pulls the proximity tracker out and is pleased to see the red light is blinking more quickly than it had been. That means he’s in the right place. 

“ The sand is dangerous and holds many secrets.”

“Fine.” Tony doesn’t have the time to waste arguing. 

“Are you planning to walk?” Kuiil asks, sounding amused.

“What’s it to you?” Tony retorts. 

The Ugnaught nods toward the second blurrg. “You could learn to ride it.”

“I could.” Tony allows “Or I could just do this.”He hits a couple of buttons on his arm panel and the blue thrusters flare to life at his back, palms and feet. He’s off the ground in an instant, hovering a foot above the sand. “Let’s go.”

The Ugnaught huffs, unimpressed. “Very well, follow me, but try not to spook the blurrg.”

They make it to the outpost just as the twin suns have reached their zenith. The heat doesn’t bother Tony much as his armor is meant to handle temperature extremes. His companion, however, seems slightly affected. 

Kuiil finds the shadow of a sand dune and stays there. “I will wait for you here.”

Tony nods, he prefers to work alone anyway. He climbs up to see just what he’s dealing with. He consults the tracker again and it’s flashing rapidly. The target is definitely nearby then.

He settles in, pulling out his electrobinoculars and scanning the area. About 300 meters ahead lay a large semicircular fort. He doesn’t see much external activity, but the tracker says he’s in exactly the right place.

Tony sets about planning to outwit the defenses. There are lookouts posted strategically on the roof, each one armed with a blaster. A couple of clicks and he has the model number. He pauses doing mental calculations, his armor is worn but still up to the challenge of an assault. He finds a couple more beings in different places, _mercenaries_ he thinks. Probably hired by the Asset to protect himself. A few are clustered around a large lumpy tan tarp. He can just make out the shape of an elongated barrel. Tony doesn't like the look of that. It reminds him of some kind of weapon, possibly even a scavenged blaster cannon - those things were bad news.

He would feel a lot better if he knew what other kinds of weaponry they might have on hand. Tony would have liked to stay here and monitor the compound until he was certain of the number of targets and exactly where the asset might be being kept. No matter how long that would take.

His plan is scrapped the minute he registers a droid steadily marching across the sand. It’s honed in on the compound and only picking up speed, a blaster rifle clutched to its silver body.

“A karking bounty droid,” he mutters. That’s just what he needs right now. It seems like nothing is going for him lately unless it’s going wrong. He needs to get the hell off this planet.

The droid is an Ultra unit, designated N class. It stands an imposing eight feet tall with long rangy limbs that conceal it’s elaborate under-circuitry. Built for intimidation and the threat of destruction, the face-plate wears a grimace meant to invoke a human skull. 

Down one elemental slate gray flank is the white Star-K logo and doesn’t he just know a thing or two about that. Tony manages to keep his temper in check though. He knows this droid has capabilities he could use. 

He abandons his hiding spot, firing up his thrusters and hurrying to catch up. He draws alongside it. It regards him dispassionately when he lands beside it and matches its hurried pace.

“Wanna team up?” He asks, jogging along beside the bot.

“Team up?” The red eyes of the bounty droid flare as its head pivots to him, “Of what use would you be to me?”

“You might be surprised.” Tony says cheekily. 

“I doubt it.” Came the flat reply.

Tony flies in front of the bounty droid, causing it to falter. He points at the scarlet Bounty Hunter Guild mark on the droid’s other flank. “Same team, right? Listen I’ve been watching these guys and it’s not going to be easy. We’ll definitely have a better chance if we work together. I think they have some serious firepower in the center courtyard.”

That gives the droid pause. Metal beings were as susceptible to projectiles and sonic cannons as anyone else. 

“We can split the fee.” Tony offers. He was even willing to follow through. It wasn’t ideal, but he could halve the Beskar and still come away with enough to have made this worth his while. Besides, if they had what he thought they had under the tarp... Well, you don’t get anything, if you’re dead.

“If it is as you say, it would be advisable for me to take your offer.” the Ultra-N considers. 

“Yeah, that’s what I just said.” 

“Very, well. We will work together.” It steps around Tony and starts again to jog across the sand toward the compound.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Tony gets in front of the the unit again, “That would be suicide. You can’t just rush in there.”

They’re close now, he’s pretty sure any mercenary defense worth their fee has already clocked them as threats. 

“Why not?” The bounty droid tilts its head, considering. 

“Well, here’s why not. I’m pretty sure that thing they have covered up? It’s a heavy blaster, one wrong move and we’ll be out here mummifying under these suns.” Tony hadn’t been sure but as they draw closer, the shape under the tarp is becoming even more recognizable.

“I would not mummify. I am not made of-”

Tony feels a burst of anger wash over him. One that often accompanies some of his more suspect plans. “Listen, see those guys there?” He gestures to the rooftop, “We need to take them down. And those guys over there-”

“Do you actually have a plan or do you simply enjoy hearing yourself speak?” The Ultra-N’s bored tone sounds slightly mocking.

It has Tony seeing red. He blows out a breath under his mask and considers his options. It takes him less than a second. 

“Ok asshole, here’s the plan. Attack!” Tony charges out into the open, firing his phase pulse blaster. The bolts of blue coincide with creatures falling from the rooftop. Anger has always sharpened his skills. 

Surprisingly, the droid follows his lead, firing on the enemy with ruthless efficiency.  
Several mercenaries rush to uncover the heavy blaster, but the droid and Tony take them out before any of them can actually get to the operator’s seat. 

In the spray of blaster fire, half their aggressors go down. Tony types commands to his suit calling miniature rockets from under the arm plating. He only has one left but he feels this is a good use of it. He aims it at a high rooftop, squinting against the glare. The hit lands and the resulting explosion takes out a chunk of the building and several shooters with it. 

The bounty droid dispatches the rest with impassive, deadly blasts. The accuracy is chilling, but Tony’s seen it before. You don’t become a Mandalorian without being acclimated to violence. 

When the shooting stops, they consider their surroundings and options. Bodies litter the courtyard and both sides of the crescent building are crumbling from their combined efforts. 

Even though the firefight is over, there’s only one way into the compound and they aren’t any closer to getting through it than when they started. 

Tony takes stock of the situation. It's come down to one door, one re-enforced blast door stands between Tony and an absolutely life changing amount of money. And it wasn’t going to be standing long. 

“We’ve got to get through these.” Tony mumbles. He hits a button on his armor and a red laser begins to cut through the locking mechanism.

“That is impressive.” the droid comments.

“Yes, I am.” Toy answers. It’s true and he should say it. There’s a squeal and a clank as he exposes the burnt out wires that rest under the heavy blast plating. 

He pulls out a wire bundle and eases them apart until he’s sure he has the ones he needs. He taps the sparking ends together and the doors begin to move. 

Tony draws back, finger on the trigger of his blaster. The door opens fully, onto a single room. There’s no shooting from inside as he steps cautiously forward. For the first time Tony considers that the door might have had a dual purpose, keeping unwanted visitors out, and trapping the Asset inside. 

“There is no one here.” The droid states plainly. 

There’s a muffled sound and Tony pulls out his tracking beacon, blinking brightly and emitting excited beeps. The Asset is in the room with them. The room that appears empty. 

Tony scans the floor for any disturbance that would indicate a trap door. The droid is also searching, it’s head turning in a perfect 360, optical sensors no doubt picking up any details that might point to a possible escape route.

Tony could never say why he did it, but he turns his head and looks up. He’s done so many jobs that not much surprises him, but this does. 

There’s a child curled up in the corner of the ceiling. 

Shock ripples through him because that can’t be right, but the now steady light on the tracker in his hand says otherwise. Tony has never had an Asset this young. _Looks can be deceiving_ , a thread of doubt curls through him, but Tony trusts his instincts and his instincts say that this is clearly just a kid. 

The boy’s wide brown eyes stare down at them, barely blinking. He scrambles a bit as he tries to shrink back into the corner. Tony feels an unwanted stab of pity and the kid curls in on himself, breathing fast.

He looks human, but humans don’t walk on walls. Ragged clothes hang off of his skinny limbs. A brief stab of pain travels through Tony’s chest as he notes the boy’s poor condition.

A blaster powers up. The bounty droid raises his weapon, aiming for the child. Center mass. Lethal.

“Hey, hey, no need for that.” Tony interjects “My client wants it alive.”

“ You were integral to the success of the mission.” There’s a whirring as the Ultra-N pauses to consider. “However, my contract stipulates termination of the subject. I will proceed.”

Tony blinks. “Now just hang on a damn second.” 

The bounty bot shrugs nonchalantly, aiming its blaster at the terrified child. “It’s not my first choice but sometimes we have to make the ugly call.” The bot intones. 

The body hit the floor hard. Tony steps over the steaming piece of metal, while sheathing his own blaster.

“Yeah.” He agrees as he steps over the droid’s body. “Sometimes.” 

The kid is hyperventilating now.

“Ok, calm down.” Tony lifts his hands up to show he means no harm. The kid probably thinks he’s about to be murdered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He reaches up trying to make the kid understand that he just wants him to come down. Tony is just barely able to brush a knobby knee with his glove. The boy scrabbles farther up onto the domed ceiling.

“Listen, kid, you need to breathe or you’re gonna-”

There’s a loud thump as the boy faints, immediately losing his grip on the ceiling and plummeting to the floor right at Tony’s feet.

“Well, that was easy.” Tony mutters, kneeling down by the Asset.  
Tony gently rolls him over. The boy's face is slack in unconsciousness, but he’s breathing. Aside from a bright red spot where his forehead kissed the ground, he seems otherwise unharmed. 

He picks the kid up, tossing him over his shoulder, and walks out of the destroyed fort. Tony tracks his way back to the dune and is pleased to find Kuil still waiting for him in the shadows. 

The farmer regards the emaciated body of the boy. “Is it alive?”

“Yes, he is” Tony answers easily. 

He freezes when he considers his options for getting them back to the ship. He had planned to just toss the Target over the back of the spare bluurg but since it’s just a kid, Tony finds himself riding the thing with the kid held in his arms. He takes a cloth from his pack, wetting it with water and draping it over the boy’s fair face. The child doesn’t stir. 

The trip takes longer this way, and the suns are starting to sink in the sky. It grows cooler and the kid starts to shiver. Against his better judgment, Tony pulls him in, closer into the warmth of the armor. He frowns. He needs to get back to his ship and off this frakking planet.

When they finally make it back to where he’d parked the Silver Centurion, the whole thing is scattered across the rise of the dunes, in pieces. 

“What the...” Tony starts to slide off the blurrg, forgetting completely about the still unconscious kid in his arms. It’s only when the kid starts to slip off toward the sand that Tony remembers. He quickly catches the boy, re-positioning him to where he’s no longer in danger of falling.

“What the hell happened to my ship?”

“Jawas.” Kuiil observes sagely.

“Jawas?There are Jawas on this planet?” Tony is yelling now, although he drops his voice as the kid in his arms stirs. The boy's eyes blink in sleepy confusion before losing the battle with consciousness yet again. 

The farmer looks regretful even though he doesn’t sound it, “They are usually on the far side this time of year. Something must have driven them this way.”

Tony is seething, he wants to chase them down and get back the pieces of his ship, but he has this kid now and the twin suns are steadily sinking down in the north. 

Kuiil interrupts his rather murderous thoughts. “I can provide you shelter. Food. “

Tony doesn't want any of that. He wants to be on his way, off this god-forsaken planet. He needs to finish the job and go- not home exactly. He didn’t really have a home, not anymore, just places that he exists. He shoves this line of thinking to the back of his mind. 

“Sure, that would be just great.” He says instead, gritting his teeth.

The farm is a network of domed structures clustered around a main water tank. Tony tries to guess the function of each one. So far he sees a smokehouse, barn for the blurrg and a main housing unit, plus a smaller one for guests. There were others, but he’s too tired to work them out now. 

Kuiil provides a mat for both him and the boy in a windowless room. Tony lays the boy down, the kid doesn’t stir. 

Concerned, he gently shakes the boy’s shoulder.

The kid jerks awake and immediately starts fighting. He’s stronger than Tony would have thought given his thin limbs. Tony dodges a swinging fist. Lordy, he’s fast too. Tony tries to catch his hands.  
“Hey. Hey! It’s me! Saved your life, remember??”

The kid freezes, blinking up at Tony’s masked face. Whatever he sees there causes him to suddenly relax. Tony lets go of the boy’s wrists.

“Time to get up.” He orders. “We need to get some food in you.” 

The kid rolls to his feet, a little unsteady. He’s taller than Tony had thought, more of a teenager than a child. 

“You got a name?” He doesn't really want to know it, but circumstances have dictated that they’re going to be spending some time together. 

The boy doesn’t answer, he just stares into Tony’s masked face, clenching his jaw. 

It occurs to Tony that the kid might actually speak one of the colony languages, but without a speech sample he can’t set his helmet to translate. He’s about to ask more questions when Kuiil calls them to eat. 

Dinner is served outside around a stone fire pit. The Ugnaught has set out several plates and small pots. There’s some sort of small scaly beast roasting on a spit over the fire. 

Tony looks over to the kid.

“Eat? You wanna eat?” He mimes the action to the kid not sure how much the boy actually understood. 

The kid nods eagerly. Okay, charades works. 

Tony pulls a packet out of his belt and tears it open, dumping the contents onto the plate. There’s a clay pot full of blurrg milk and Tony pours it onto the instant rise bread. It begins to grow into a decent sized loaf. As soon as the reaction stops, the kid grabs it. In four enormous bites, it’s gone and the boy’s eyes are casting around for something else.

Tony stands up, uncertain. He wonders how long the compound he’d found the kid in had gone without being re-supplied. Would the boy have survived much longer? He shoved that thought aside, nothing good would come from going down that road. 

“Got anything else he can eat?” He asks Kuiil. The farmer is checking the meat for doneness. 

“Hmmm. “

“I’ll pay you.”

Kuiil returns with three baskets. One of small, prickly-skinned fruits, the other seemed to be full of seeds but the last had small, dried eight legged bugs.

The boy's face lights up in recognition and he grabs a handful of the dried creatures, stuffing them in his mouth. 

“Slow down on the spiders, kid.” Tony mutters. 

“Good protein.” says the Ugnaught approvingly as he carefully cuts and serves the roasted creature meat. 

After dinner, they retire for the night. Tony takes the food he was able to salvage from the kid and the farmer. He needs to remove his mask to eat, but he’s honor bound not to show his face to another living being, for a Mandalorian, it is the way. 

There’s a small oil lamp casting a warm glow over the small domed room. It's modest but clean.   
He gestures to the mat and the kid sits down on it heavily, folding his arms over his knees, his eyes resting on the mask. All evening the boy has been watching Tony in a way the Mandalorian isn't quite comfortable with. There’s not an ounce of distrust there and there should be. Not that Tony planned to tell him that. 

Eventually, having a belly full of food and a day full of stressful activity catch up the kid and his eyelids droop. Then he slowly stretches out and falls asleep leaving Tony alone with his thoughts. 

The whole delay has only served to fuel his simmering anger at the Jawas. A diminutive, scavenger people, they couldn’t have chosen a worse time to be opportunistic. His frustration eats at him, his thoughts churning. He can’t leave, but every day they linger on this planet brings him closer to a potential confrontation with other bounty hunters. That, he absolutely does not want. 

Tony rises and strips off the helmet by sliding his fingers over a biometric pad under his chin. It recognizes his prints and releases. He pulls the mask off, setting it aside. He had already gotten a small jug of water and a bowl from Kuiil. In his pack are linen strips and he uses them to clean away the day's grime. He strips off the outer armor, washing his arms and hands. When he’s as clean as he can get with what he has, he extinguishes the light and tosses the used water outside into the night. 

After eating, he lays down on his mat, facing away from the kid. 

It occurs to him that he needs to ask the farmer about getting the boy a bath, the kid is filthy. Then he silently curses himself. This down time is exactly what he did not need. He will not get attached, this kid is just a means to an end. The key to freedom from bounty hunting and to vengeance on Obie. And if he ever feels himself getting weak, he’ll just think of all that Beskar. That thought lulls him into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I posted one in the middle of the night, here's another! I may double up on another day. I'd like to get the whole thing out by Friday. Not the least of which is because I hate formatting:D

Arvala-7  
Part of the Inner Reaches Binary Star System  
A Desert, Vapor Farming World

Tony wakes up sometime before dawn. He’d been dreaming again. About Yinsen, who’d found him battered and left for dead on the backwater planet of Jakku. Tony had lost everything, his family, his money, his name...but he’d found something new. A purpose. Ho Yinsen had taken him in and taught him the ways of the Mandalorian. 

It had changed everything, well most everything. No matter how they’d tried to train it out of him, his thoughts still often strayed to Coruscant and the nest of vipers that had betrayed him. It had been that anger that had kept him alive in even the most dire of circumstances. And now he could feel that familiar rage bubbling close to the surface when he thought about the Jawa. They were going to give him back his ship. 

He slips on his armor and goes to step outside, nearly tripping over the kid’s probably too-small desert boots that had been haphazardly discarded just inside the door. Irritated, Tony kicks them to the side and leaves. He finds the farmer already milking the blurrg and busy with the day's chores. Tony stays out of the way and continues on with his own agenda.

Tony ultimately decides that a clean captive is as good as a dirty one, so he gathers water and some washing cloths for the kid. He leaves them inside the room and goes back out to stoke the fire and prepare breakfast. 

He goes to the smokehouse and finds a slab of meat and there are some purple shelled eggs, stored in a basket. The yolks are green and the whites are naturally oily when he cracks them into a pan. They fry up perfectly. He’s able to eat and put his helmet back into place before anyone else shows up.

“I did not realize you could cook.” The Ugnaught observes when he returns with two fresh buckets of water. 

“There’s not much that I’m not good at.” Tony shrugs, scooping the egg onto a plate along with the meat and offering it to the man. 

“Modest too” the farmer sniffs, accepting the plate.

Tony grins under his mask. 

The kid appears, drawn out by the promise of more food. He slinks to the edge of the fire and takes the plate when Tony hands it over. He’s cleaned himself, Tony’s pleased to note, but the rags he had been dressed in before still hang loosely on his limbs.

They sit together in comfortable silence until breakfast is done. 

“Do you have big plans for the day?” The Ugnaught asks nonchalantly, but Tony thinks he already knows.

“I need you to get me to those Jawas.”

Kuiil nods in assent. 

Tony tries to hurry things along but the farmer will not be hurried. He takes his sweet time gathering supplies and preparing to leave his small farm. It has Tony rolling his eyes. 

He’s already packed his blaster and is ready to leave. 

The kid is watching with worried eyes. Tony pretends he doesn’t see. He doesn’t necessarily want to take the kid, but he doesn’t think it's wise to leave him either. He now knows that he wasn’t the first bounty hunter to come through here and until he collects that beskar, he definitely won’t be the last. 

Kuiil brings out another tamed blurrg and helps the boy onto its back, settling the question.  
They set out, riding across the sandy ground while Tony flies ahead to scout out the trails. A large vehicle has left obvious tracks. It takes them less than an hour.

Tony uses his electrobinoculars to hone in on the Jawa mobile fortress. It’s rolling along at a beach snail’s pace, too overloaded with stolen goods to make good progress. A fire lights in his gut and he takes off after them. Flying over the sand. The farmer and the kid have no hope of keeping up on their blurrgs.

He lands beside the rolling structure and shouts at them to stop. A curious Jawa pokes its head out of a porthole on the side of the vehicle, but otherwise they ignore him 

Tony narrows his eyes under his mask, “Ok I’m running out of patience.” 

He flies up and begins firing shots at the Jawas, blowing holes in the plating and tearing up the decking. The whole contraption grinds to a halt. He continues his barrage until a gangway slowly lowers on the side. 

A quick sideways glance shows Tony that Kuiil and the kid have almost caught up. Blurrg move faster than he’d realized. 

When the gangway is finally on the ground, the angry Jawa leader charges out.. 

“Wermo, ny shootogawa!”

Tony yells back trying to talk over the chittering voices that were directing disapproval and slurs in his direction. Fortunately, Jawa is one of the many trade languages he speaks.

“You pilfered stuff from my ship.” He shouts back.

One of the Jawa shrugs. “Dooka.”

Tony takes a deep breath, annoyed. “It was not ‘junk’. Now give it back.”

There’s a trader holding a gear stick that Tony recognizes. When the Jawa sees that he’s noticed, it quickly hides it under its sleeve. “Mombay m'bwa.”

“No, it isn’t yours,” Tony stabs an accusatory finger at the Jawa.

The trader just shrugs.

The Leader Jawa has been considering Tony and his very obvious Mandalorian armor. It cocks it’s hooded head. “Etee wanna wa?”

“Trade for what?” Tony says cautiously.

The jawas nearby gather together, conferencing. They seem to quickly reach a consensus.

“Da bets!” The leader shouts. 

“Uh- what now? What kind of beast?” He sees that Kuuil has finally caught up to him, but is making no effort to interfere or explain. The kid lags behind, looking only slightly better than he had the day before. It annoys Tony that he even notices.

It’s all over now though, the Jawas are rushing together and chanting in excited chorus, “Da Bets! Da Bets! Da Bets!”

He looks uncertainly at Kuiil, whose inscrutable expression gives him no clue.

“Ok, Da Bets.” He tacitly agrees. 

The Jawas cheer loudly and jump around excitedly. 

“You wanna tell me what I just agreed to?” Tony rejoins the farmer and the kid

“Good meat.” the Ugnaught says nonchalantly. 

It’s an irritating non-answer.

The Jawa that has his gear stick is waving it around in celebration. Tony deftly reaches over and snatches it back, tucking it under his belt. “Is that what they want it for?”

“No. They are wasteful. They want it for its armor plates. Those can withstand blaster fire, among other things.” The farmer doesn’t explain that any further but he does offer up one last thought, “Difficult to kill though.”

“You know, next time I’d start with that.” Tony observes tartly, but really, how hard can it be. He’s a little low on ammo at the moment, but he’s a skilled fighter. If this ‘beast’ is anything like a blurrg, it’ll be easy. 

Tony ignites his thrusters and flies alongside the Jawa fortress. Several kilometers later, they reach a large hole in the ground. There’s nothing outside to give Tony any clue what might lurk beneath the surface, but the sheer size of the hole is not encouraging. 

The Jawa give Tony a sharp metal pike and then retreat a safe distance away, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

“I do not believe that will help.” Kuiil states when he sees the pike.

The kid stands behind him looking at the Jawas and their fortress, taking it all in with bright, intelligent focus. There are dark smudges still there under his eyes and Tony feels a pang. He hadn’t noticed until this moment, how clever those eyes were .

“Keep him safe.” He says to Kuiil as he prepares his armor. It’s all about the payout, he reminds himself.

The farmer gives a steady nod but says nothing.

He goes down to the beast’s burrow and slips inside.The Mandalorian helmet automatically adjusts the light so he can see in the dark space. He steps forward, searching for his opponent and stumbles over a bone. As he extends his gaze he sees more bones, the lair is carpeted with them. The beast is sleeping, curled up in the recesses. The serpentine head at first makes him think it’s some kind of snake, but then he notices the long fingered limbs and something clicks. 

“It’s a karking Zillo Beast.” He mutters in disbelief, easing back toward the entrance. 

When he’s almost clear, he flies up and out. He’s well past a cautious, quiet retreat because that thing is beyond dangerous. The Zillo Beast explodes out of the burrow behind him. He twists away as it lunges for him, emitting an unearthly screech.

Out in the light, he can see that it’s not as large as the ones he’s read about. Still a serious threat. 

He spins the pike, knocking away one of the things' arms. The Zillo beast arches its neck screeching again. Tony is going over his options and realizes he doesn’t have many. Zillo beasts are impervious to most things he has in his arsenal. 

He rolls out of the way of clawed limbs and hurls the pike at the thing’s face. The weapon bounces harmlessly off the beast’s face plating. Tony desperately taps settings on his armor, but he’s depleted most of his armory and what he has left. Not blasters, out of rockets, no projectiles. He has little other than the laser and a fucking flashlight. If he can even get to either of them in time. The thing is fast, scuttling across the canyon toward him. Tony flies, but it follows, rearing up on its hind legs. He’s fighting this thing, but it has six appendages and he only has four. 

The beast swats him to the ground and pins him there, before undulting away. Pain flares in his left arm. 

A barbed tail is heading his direction. 

He braces himself for the blow, but it doesn’t come. Tony opens one eye, under the mask. The kid is in front of him holding the Zillo’s spiked tail in his bare hands.The muscles in his back tremble with the effort.

The Zillo beast jerks itself away from the boy and turns its attention fully toward him. It gathers itself up and lashes out with one of its arms but the kid dodges, seeming to know where the blows will land before they even get there.

In a rage the Zillo tries to bite, but its jaws snap closed on empty air.

Stuff that looks like rope, flies out of the kids wrists. It wraps around a scaly appendage and the kid _pulls_ one of the Beast’s legs out from under it. Dust swirls around the kid’s tattered pant legs as he plants his feet. 

The muscles of his arms flex and tighten as he drags the Zillo’s leg the other direction, keeping it from righting itself. The oversize, dirty tunic slips over a narrow shoulder as the boy inexorably drags the flailing monster closer. There’s a fine tremor setting up through his malnourished frame but he stays on his feet. 

The kid plants his foot on the leathery abdomen and shoves the Zillo beast. It goes flying before he jerks the threads, slamming it into the ground. The creature lays there stunned. The child staggers a few steps and collapses in exhaustion. Behind the kid, the Zillo rises up and opens its wide ugly maw, aiming for the now defenseless boy.

For a moment Tony is frozen and a cold panic rushes over him. Instinct takes over and he throws himself between the beast and teen, sliding across the sandy ground. As the Zillo closes in, Tony lifts his arm, aiming his laser straight through the creatures exposed soft palate and burning a hole through its lizard brain. The thing collapses, instantly dead.

Tony drops to his knees next to the fallen boy. “Kid? Hey, kid?” He taps at an ashen cheek. 

There is no response. The boy’s head lolls back, his mouth parted. He’s barely breathing. Tony gives his shoulders a little shake, but the kid doesn’t stir.

Kuiil hurries to their side and holds out a clay bottle. “Here, give him this, it is a restorative.” The man offers.

Tony pulls the stopper. The medicine smells terrible, even through the filters in his helmet, but Tony obediently dribbles some into the corner of the kid’s mouth. 

There’s a moment when he thinks it won’t work, but the kid's eyes suddenly fly open and he makes a choking sound.

“Welcome back sleepyhead,” Tony says, not pausing to examine the burst of relief he feels to see the kid awake.

Kuiil puts the stopper back in his jar of potion and the boy continues to sputter, sucking in gasps of air.

“That was some nice work, Kid.” Tony awkwardly pats the boy’s arm. “You did good, rest.”

He moves away, but can feel the boy’s somber gaze on him.

Tony goes back to the Zillo’s body. He cuts away the plates with the laser. The skin gives way, but the leathery body armor does not. He tries not to get distracted by what he’d just seen the kid do and the host of questions it raises 

“Here’s your skrogging plates.” He tosses a pile at them and the Jawa dutifully collects them, while another group of them returns the items from his ship. They pile them up behind one of the blurrg. 

It annoys him to see the Jawa profit, but it can’t be helped. He has to fix up the Silver Centurion and get offworld. He can’t afford to linger here with the boy- the asset- he corrects,any longer. 

Tony glances at the kid. His curious gaze is straying to a small, broken equipment droid. The boy exhausted, swaying on his feet, but he doesn’t take his eyes from the mostly discarded bot. 

“We’ll take that too.” Tony points and the Jawas chatter disapprovingly, but they don’t stop him. 

It will give the kid something to stay occupied with while they make their way back to the Client. Maybe if Tony has time he can fix it up a bit and then keep it for himself.

“Well, that was very exciting.” Kruiil, comments as they ride the blurrg back to his farm, hauling Tony’s equipment and the newly acquired Zillo plates. Tony plans to gift them to Kuiil as payment. 

“I assume you will begin repairs tomorrow.” The farmer says, “It should not take you more than a day or two at most. I will gather provisions for you and your boy.”

“Hey now.” Tony startles. “He’s not mine. He’s an- ” words fail him a bit. 

The kid in question is currently slumped in front of Tony, snoring softly and loosely clutching his second-hand droid. 

Kuiil, looks them up and down. “I have spoken.” He intones, turning his back on Tony.

In the end it takes Tony three days to rebuild the ship. The kid spends a day resting, but as soon as he’s up, he’s constantly at Tony’s heels. He’s never had an Asset so underfoot before. 

At first Tony had tried to ignore him, giving the kid a wide berth, but eventually it became convenient to have the boy hand him wrenches, bolts and spanners. The kid seemed to be learning the names of the tools easily so Tony was rethinking that he might have come from some isolated colony.

Tony’s not exactly coming to depend on the boy, but at least he’s become accustomed to his presence. The confrontation with the Zillo Beast had already tipped him off that the kid was different, but he was starting to catalog even more abilities. The boy was agile, able to help Tony place sensors and paneling along the exterior. He seemed to be able to contort his body in ways he shouldn’t have been and he had incredible balance. Tony files these observations away for later. 

When it came time to move the hull plating, Tony believes he and the boy can move the smaller pieces. For the larger panels, he thought they would definitely need the blurrg. 

“Here, help me get this. Grab this end.” Tony goes to get his own and the whole plate comes off the ground before he can even get a hand under it. The kid has it all by himself and is watching Tony, waiting to be told where it goes.

“Uh, right there is good.” He points, trying not to telegraph how uncomfortable he is with this kid’s unconscious show of strength.

They work to get the plates on and Tony tries not to think about how wrong it is that the kid is even assisting in this. 

He also finds that the boy’s strength, while impressive, begins to flag quickly. Tony thinks it has to do with malnutrition. The kid either hadn’t been fed or hadn’t been fed enough during his captivity and there was no way to know for sure because he still wasn’t talking. 

Near the end of the day Tony notices that he’s left a sensor cover off and hands it off to the kid, gesturing for the boy to help him get the wooden ladder they’d borrowed from Kuiil. Instead the kid takes the cover and scampers up to the top of the ship, sticking to the hull with one hand and both feet.

“Ok yeah, freaky.” He says but the kid just shrugs. Tony directs him to the aft sensor array and the boy places the cover easily enough. Tony gets back to work, he’s so close to finished that he can taste it. 

He’s so engrossed in putting the final welds in place, that it takes Tony a while to notice the boy hasn’t come back down. He moves away from the ship, eyes checking the sand for prints he might have missed. The sun is starting to sink lower in the sky and there’s a moderate breeze kicking up swirls in the sandy soil. 

He finally locates the kid perched on top of the Silver Centurion. The boy has his legs drawn up, one arm looped over his knee. He’s staring out into the desert beyond the farm, with a tired but pleased smile. The wind plays with his curls, making him appear younger than he is. Tony decides not to call him down. Let him enjoy these few stolen moments of freedom. 

The kid knows when it’s time to pack it in and drops to the ground beside Tony soundlessly. 

“Let’s get back.” Tony says more gently than he’d planned. “If we’re too late he’ll get testy.” To his horror he finds himself reaching out to pat the kid on the shoulder and at the last moment he aborts the gesture, dropping his hand. Fortunately the boy doesn’t seem to notice. 

Dinner on the moisture farm is becoming a more intimate affair. Kuiil seems to have an endless supply of dried foods and smoked meat. Tony hopes the farmer isn’t digging too deeply into his supplies, but when he mentions this he’s gruffly waved away. That night they have stew made from mushrooms that grew on the underside of the moisture vaporators. The boy finishes three bowls before he goes to work on the other foods. 

“Go easy on the spiders, kid,” Tony mutters. “You’re going to start growing extra legs.”

The boy laughs softly and playfully throws one at Tony. Kuiil snatches it out of the air and eats it without comment. 

“Hey that was mine!” Tony jokes, grinning under his mask.

“You are too slow.” Kuiil says with a half smile and that seems to delight the kid even more. He looks relaxed in his mirth and it pains something inside Tony, something he’d thought dead long ago.

So far they’ve been lucky and no other bounty hunters have shown up. At least not close to the farm, but time is definitely no longer on their side. Tomorrow is the day though. Tony feels reluctant to pop this little bubble that they’ve all been existing in, but he knows it’s merely the illusion of something. He won’t think it, he can’t.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday's child is full of woe.

Arvala-7  
Part of the Inner Reaches Binary Star System  
A Desert, Vapor Farming World

The next morning sees Tony doing final checks and powering up the mainframe. He sets MAI to run diagnostics. He’s pretty sure they’ve gotten everything back where it needs to be, but it’s best to be sure before they try to leave the atmosphere.

Tony gives Kuiil several republic credits and terse instructions. “If anyone asks, I’m headed toward Felucia.”

Kuiil huffs what might have been a laugh. “No one will ask.”

The farmer pats the kid awkwardly and gives him a bag of his favorite dried snacks. “Be well.”

Tony wonders exactly what part of ‘Bounty Hunters collect bounty by turning over assets they capture’ Kuiil had missed but he doesn’t correct the farmer.

The Ugnaught mounts his mighty blurrg and departs with a wave and a serious, “I have spoken.”

They lift off and Tony sets the coordinates. 

“Setting course.” MAI says. 

The kid just about tumbles out of his seat with shock. He catches himself quickly, sticking to his seat and turns his curious gaze to Tony. 

“That’s my AI, artificial intelligence.” Tony explains, surprised and pleased to see a delighted grin on the boy’s face at the technology. It reminds Tony uncomfortably of himself. He tries to tramp down on that line of thinking because bounty hunting 101 is that you do not empathize with your Asset. 

He’s never had a problem with that before, but he’s also never taken in one this young. 

If an Asset gives him trouble he just encases them in carbonite. He always turns them over and he never dwells on what happens to them once he leaves them with Fury. 

However, he does find himself wondering why the Client and Dr Octavius want this teenager so badly. The kid definitely has skills but they didn’t seem to want him as a person or a prisoner even. What did that leave? A weapon? Whatever the reason, they wanted him badly enough to offer up a king's ransom to find him. Tony’s now wishing he’d left one of the ones from the compound alive so he could find out what they’d wanted with the boy too. 

He can hear MAI telling the kid about the ship layout. Sometimes there are pauses in her speech and Tony wonders idly if he should upgrade her voice algorithms.

Time tends to flow together on a spaceship. MAI helps keep them on a rough schedule. After his sleep cycle and breakfast, Tony emerges from his quarters. 

The kid is already awake. His tongue is poking out and he concentrates on tinkering with the little round droid they’d gotten from the Jawas. It has a flat topped head and a spheroid body. It’s filthy and damaged. The kid’s got it somewhat mobile though and it’s beeping happily while the boy cleans up the outside. 

He watches the boy work for a moment. He notes the fierce concentration in those brown eyes, as the kid leans forward to isolate a wire. The kid is still pale, a lock of limp hair falls forward over his brow but the boy makes no move to try to tame it. His focus is entirely on the rewiring process.

It suddenly strikes Tony how little he really knows about the kid. Were his parents dead? Were they looking for him? How had he ended up on Hydra’s radar? Had someone paid them to find him, someone like Obie Stane. Tony finds his speculation spiraling uncomfortably close to his own situation, he gives his head a firm shake. 

That finally catches the kid's attention and he looks up at Tony. The boy gives a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Tony could read between the lines, the kid wants to work without an audience. 

Before he goes, Tony leans down and taps a tiny compartment on the side of the droid’s body. It falls open revealing a variety of screwdrivers and spanners. The clanking unleashes a flash of memory. Days in the garage. His father shouting at him that he had no time for Tony’s constant tinkering, he shoves the thought back down. 

“It’s a Non-standard Equipment Droid.” He tells the kid before continuing to the front of the ship.

He decides he can’t afford to waste any more time with the boy. Nothing good can come of it. Tony eases into the pilot's seat. He’s automated most of the flight controls through MAI, but he works to double check his settings, stubbornly ignoring the little clock counting down at the back of his mind 

He wonders idly what became of his own bots back home. Had there been anyone to take care of them? It was unlikely but maybe.

MAI’s voice interrupts him from his pointless stroll down memory lane. 

“The young person you brought aboard has requested droid oil for the NED unit.”

He wonders how she knows that, but then again, it's her job to be intuitive. Hell, he’d programmed her that way. 

More irritatingly, he doesn’t want her to call the kid that. Tony wants her to call him”The Asset” or even “the prisoner” would be better. 

But he doesn't say any of that.

Instead he says, “Yeah, sure. Let me find it.” NED still doesn’t work quite right in spite of the boy’s near constant tinkering. The kid had cleaned it up and oiled the joints; but it’s still far from fully operational. Tony’s looked it over and he has a good idea what it might take to fix it. 

When he gets there, the kid looks up and shrugs, tossing the screwdriver down in frustration. He blows out an annoyed breath, avoiding looking at the helmet again. Tony can see his jaw tighten and knows he’s embarrassed to need the help and Tony shouldn’t help. He should retreat back to the front of the ship and stay there. 

In spite of his misgivings, Tony sits down beside the Kid and pops open the diagnostic port on NED. He goes through the steps of completing the rewire of the droid, the kid watches, crowding in closer to Tony, rapt. Tony uses the portable soldering gun and refreshes a few connections, keeping the soldering gun well out of the way of the boy’s probing fingers as he scrutinizes Tony’s work. The second Tony finishes the last one, NED goes berserk, chirping inquisitively as he races through the ship, exploring. 

The kid smiles bright but he looks tired. Tony’s learning to read the boy, a fact that bothers him. He keeps his tone brusque. “Get some sleep.”

The kid nods and moves to obey, retreating to his bunk.

Tony checks the chronometer, 20 hours until they reach the Nevarro outpost, where the Client is waiting. He thinks he’s doing a good job of ignoring the implications of what will happen once they arrive there.

He’s startles when the kid reappears, blinking sleep from his eyes. The droid rolls along in his wake, trilling merrily.

Tony doesn’t have any kind of entertainment for children on board. He has a few games but they’d take too long to explain. His mind goes back to his own childhood, searching for the easiest one he can think of. 

“Hey, you ever played lizard, toad, snake?” He asks. 

The kid shakes his head, his shaggy curls drooping over his forehead.

It’s a rudimentary hand game that Tony had played in primary school. He practices the hand motions a couple of times before he starts to teach the kid.

“This is lizard.” He holds his hand in the closed approximation of a lizard’s mouth. “And this is toad. It’s just a fist.” The kid seems to be following along well enough. “The last one is snake.” Tony uses his index and middle fingers as fangs

The kid copies, he’s a fast learner. 

“Ok, you got it.” Tony praises. “So the rest is strategy. Snake eats lizard, and Lizard eats toad,” He demonstrates each one. “And last toad squishes? snake.”

At the kid’s skeptical expression, Tony shrugs, “No, I don't get that one either”

They feel their way through a few games that Tony wins easily. Then the kid starts to change it up a bit, becoming more difficult to predict. It makes Tony feel like they’re communicating. Even though he’s not speaking, the kid’s sudden little inhales of triumph and the glares accompanying huffs of irritation fill the gaps of expression. Tony wonders again if the kid was born mute or if its more likely that it’s trauma related. 

“Best two out of three,” Tony says and he wins but only barely. “Three out of five” He starts them off again and they both win two rounds apiece. 

“All tied up.” He comments. The kid gives no indication of what he might pick. 

“It’s fun, right?” Tony finds himself smiling under the helmet, the boy nods. 

In the end, the kid beats him by throwing a toad and squishing Tony’s snake. “And you win. Congratulations, that was ridiculous.”

The kid throws his head back in a sudden laugh, he looks genuinely delighted. The unexpected sound catches Tony off guard and it hits him with sudden clarity what a terrible idea this was. He rises abruptly, tamping down on stray emotions. The smile slowly slides off the kids face and he instead looks concerned, his brows drawing together. 

Tony turns away, knowing he won’t check on the kid again. He moves quickly toward the front of the ship, he doesn’t look back.

Nevarro  
Galactic Expansion Region  
A rock world with mossy vegetation  
Republic Supply Outpost

When they finally make it back to Navarro, Tony’s muscles are tense. He knows he’s radiating annoyance, but he’s uneasy and fractious. The moment to hand the kid over looms nearer. Tony can’t wait for it to be over so he can put this whole sordid business behind him. 

“Time to go.” He bites out, setting the ship down and engaging the security measures. 

The kid looks up questioningly from where he’s been teaching the droid rudimentary games with hand motions. He still hasn't spoken a word. Nothing to be done about that now. 

“Hurry up,” Tony snaps, trying to force calm into his demeanor. If he looks tense at the hand off, everything could go south. 

‘Just think about the Beskar,’ he reminds himself.

The boy follows him like a baby pelikki behind it’s mother. And hadn’t Tony once been the same. Trusting Obie Stane, the steady hand at his shoulder. The hand that had ultimately pushed his face down in the sand, sent him out to die on Jakku. He shook his head, forcing the memory away.

He’d already known that it wasn’t good to identify with an Asset. Tony never had before, but with this one he’d had a much harder time. He steels himself. This is probably for the best, he thinks. 

The kid should learn early to expect betrayal. 

_But not from you._ A voice whispers, it sounds unsettlingly like his dead mother. 

The boy tugs at his arm in question. Tony doesn’t slow down. They move quickly through the streets until they are one again in front of the unassuming building. 

Tony flashes his chip and the optical sensor once again comes out of the wall. The door opens and they step inside. 

They quietly pass the soldiers still standing like sentinels in their gleaming back body armor. Tony can feel the kid drawing close but he quickens his step. When they reach the main room, the kid has already had enough and Tony feels a sharp, inquisitive tug on his sleeve. He ignores it, ruthlessly tamping down on his emotions. This ordeal was nearly over.

The kid’s grubby attire contrasts with the immaculate appearance of Commandant Osborn. Today he’s dressed in white. He smiles, eyes appraising as he takes in the kid. Tony produces the biotracker and tosses it onto the table in front of the man. The light in the center glows steady red.

“Here it is.” Tony pushes the boy forward and steps back. 

The kid tries to step back to Tony’s side, where he feels safe. But the Mandalorian pushes him, none too gently back in front of the Client.

“Take him.” Osborne commands the soldiers, eyes hard. 

The boy whirls toward The Mandalorian, eyes full of questions. Tony refuses to meet the gaze, turning his helmet toward the wall. 

A door to the right slides open revealing Dr Octavius.

There’s a whine as the boy shrinks back, away from the doctor, but he doesn’t step to Tony, just hovers there, eyes flicking back and forth between them. He doesn’t know which way to go. He’s no longer sure in which direction lies safety.

A soldier steps forward and takes the boy’s arm. The kid yanks it free. Another soldier steps forward to help the first. He throws them off easily. Lashing out and punching. The spider drones descend from the corners. One shoots out a metal arm that wraps around the kid. The boy plants his feet, pulling back against the steel arms. His feet grip hard into the floor, and then with a flick of his wrist shoots gossamer strands at the Spider drones. The boy yanks on them, hard, and hurls the heavy metal drone into a wall, where it explodes.

Tony stays out of it, he’s done his part. He’s delivered the Asset and it’s now the Client’s job to contain him. 

There a second though, where the kid pivots. His eyes lock on the helmet and Tony feels unmasked. The look of betrayal on the boy’s face pierces his armor in a way that no weapon ever could. Something curls and congeals in Tony’s chest, he swallows against the bitter tang. 

Pandemonium descends on the room as more soldiers file in. Another drone grabs the kid’s arm and a leg, pulling hard. The boy drops low, attempting to twist free of the hands. 

The Hydra soldiers work to restrain the boy, but they're having trouble. He’s fast and strong and if he hadn’t already been so malnourished from his time on Arvala -7, Tony doesn’t think they could have done it. 

The doctor has been hanging back, but now strikes like a snake, silvery, metal limbs fly out of a casing on Octavius’ back, wrapping tightly around the boy’s neck. The Doctor injects the kid before he can throw them off. The boy crumples at their feet. The Doctor releases him, says something and the soldiers carry the unconscious boy out of the room none too gently. 

There’s the ghost of a sound from the boy’s lips, just before the door closes. It twists something in Tony’s stomach, but he remains still, standing by the door.

“You’ve done well.” the Client flatters as he rises from behind the table where he’d been hiding. At his gesture, one of the harried soldiers steps forward with the container of Beskar. 

Tony knows he should be elated at this moment. When he takes this payment of this size home to the hidden, Mandalorian outpost, he’ll be conferring honor on them as well as the Bounty Guild. But at this moment, he doesn’t feel honorable. He will never forget the look of betrayal in the kid’s eyes as long as he lives. 

Restraint was never his strong suit and the question leaves his mouth before he really considers the implications. “What do you plan to do with him?”

“With whom?” The man sighs as Tony continues to stare. “Is that not part of your guild’s motto? That it will be forgotten?”

“Yeah, but I’m curious, what are you gonna do with the kid?.”

“Mandalorian, I believe you’re being well compensated enough to just walk out of here.” The Client’s blue gaze is penetrating. “Enjoy spending your Beskar.”

Tony walks out the door, intending to do just that. 

He makes his way directly back to the Silver Centurion. Tony sees no reason to linger here. He needs to get offworld, he has things to attend to. Most pressing is his armor and he’s short on supplies. 

He strides up into the ship.

The little nonstandard equipment droid is rolling excitedly around in circles on the floor. It lets out a squeal when it sees him.

He brushes past it and goes to the pilot’s seat. He throws himself into the pilot’s seat and begins pushing buttons,powering up the engines and making ready for departure. 

The droid makes an inquisitive beep. 

Tony ignores it, instructing MAI to input the coordinates. The little droid follows him beeping and chirping ecstatically.

“He’s gone, NED.”

There’s a questioning chime of confusion. The droid rocks back and forth. 

“No, he’s not coming back.” Tony says grimly.

There’s a loud squeal and the NED unit rams his leg, hard, pivots its optical sensor up toward his face and makes an accusatory beep.

Tony kicks it lightly, sending the grubby little bot rolling across the deck until it smacks a wall. There’s a distressed whoop and the bot powers down to stasis mode.

He steadfastly pushes away the guilt.

“MAI, are we ready to go?”

“All systems are prepared.” MAI answers, her voice sounding cool. 

“Take us to Mandalore.” Tony orders. The ship lifts off and accelerates into the atmosphere before breaking free of gravity and silently blasting into hyperspace. Tony drops his head back against the seat and closes his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the comments. I'm so sorry I'm bad at replying right now. They mean the world to me though and I appreciate every one! Thank you!!

Mandalorian Enclave  
Undisclosed Location  
Deep Space

Tony lands his ship easily and heads directly to the armory, leaving NED behind. He can’t stand to look at the droid any longer. The other Mandalorians make themselves scarce, perhaps sensing that he isn’t in the mood to re-hash his most recent capture. 

It’s past noon before he can meet with the Armorer. When he finally does, Tony presents the beskar to her and gives her a very brief re-telling of how he’d earned it, leaving out the part where he’d gotten attached to the Asset and now every step in his formerly well-laid plans feels like a betrayal.

The Armorer’s helmet is unmoving as she regards his payment. He knows it's a shock. A long time ago this amount of refined metal would have been nothing to him, but now it sits between them, a veritable fortune. 

Beskar steel was valuable not just because it was easy to spend. It was incredibly difficult to come by and sacred to the Mandalorians. They valued it for it’s malleability as well as its imperviousness to all kinds of weaponry. It was the only metal they deigned to create their armor from. 

“There is enough here to craft a whole new suit of armor.” The Armorer says finally, running a gloved hand reverently over the bars. “ I daresay there will even be quite a bit left over.”

Tony nods, it matches his own calculations. “I know.”

“Do you want me to craft your suit?” she asks him. They both already know the answer. Tony’s never been one to sit on the sidelines when it comes to his own equipment. “I’ll do it.” he removes one of the bars and hands it to her. “Thank you.”

“Have you chosen a signet yet?” She asks. Tony has long resisted this. For one thing, he’s taken down many difficult and notable prisoners but none that he’d want their ugly mugs adorning his armor. 

The Armorer seems to follow his thoughts, “The Zillo Beast would be an excellent choice for you. Stubborn, resilient, strong..”

Tony shakes his head. “I was assisted by the Asset.” Tony pauses, then feels compelled to fill the silence. “He didn’t realize that I was his enemy.” He lets the words hang between them.

She nods, seemingly understanding, but how could she. She hadn’t seen the kid’s face. 

It’s late when Tony returns to the forge, the building is empty as the other Madalorians had retired for the night. The fire hasn’t been banked though, the Armorer having left burning for him.

Tony seals the heavy forge door and strips down to his black sleeveless shirt and raw silk pants. He sets his mask aside. Turning the lever, he opens up the mechanized bellows, allowing the fire to breath and grow.

The heat should be oppressive, but Tony feels liberated as he starts to melt down the beskar. The silver bars turn liquid in the ceramic crucible revealing no obvious impurities. Tony turns away from his reflection, taking up the iron tongs and beginning to pour some of the beskar into casts for sheets of metal. 

He lays out more cast iron tools on the work table. Tony has already chosen the molds he wants. He pours the silvery molten beskar in, one piece at a time, but finds it isn’t coming out quite the way he imagines. The edges are imperfect and sharp. Tony takes on the challenge of bending it to his will, to suit his purpose, but what is his purpose? He slams the hammer down.

Sweat drips down his nose as he fights to shape the metal pieces. They seem to warp though, distorted under his fingers. Tony swears in frustration. It’s there, he can feel it, pressed down, hidden away - a gnawing drive. He stops. This is a critical time in the crafting process, but he has to find it, the reason. The anger that had driven him, it wasn’t enough anymore. He needs something better. Tony breathes, the idea crystallizes and it brings him peace and focus.

Tony now finds the molded designs constricting, he’s been missing something. He picks up the tools again and begins to craft his armor carefully, using the tongs to position the hot pieces against the anvil. He turns the plate he’s working on carefully, pondering. The armor should reflect the Mandalorian who wears it and the picture he’s always had of himself has recently undergone a fundamental shift. The time on Arvala-7 and after had awakened realization. There’s more to life than rage and revenge and Tony can’t be the kind of person that trades in innocent lives. Not anymore.

To accomplish what he was planning, he was going to need a bigger stick than the other guy. Inspiration ignites and it flows through him. He strikes, bending the sheets to conform to the designs in his head. Yinsen had always reminded him that from struggle came virtue. It was time to choose his own path and not cling to the one that had been handed to him. 

Sweat runs down his bicep as he uses the hammer. Showers of sparks bite his exposed skin but he ignores them. Hours pass and he adds on a plating that turns the silver metal a dull red, to honor Yinsen. He hums approvingly to himself; family doesn't just come from blood. 

Then it’s the gold, gold is for vengeance, which is secondary now. He’s banked that fire, but he knows if he gets the chance to, he’ll strike. He thinks of droids incapable of mercy sprinting on hot sand. This time it won’t just be about himself. 

Tony works hard deep into the night. Sweat mixed with ash burns into his eyes and his hand quivers with fatigue as he works and reworks the armour plating obsessively. Somewhere deep down he recognizes this had all started to distract himself from what might be happening to the kid, but now he’s in a rush to finish. 

Dawn is just breaking when Tony withdraws from the forge with his completed pieces and leftover beskar resting on a trolley. Back in his personal quarters, he places fine wires inside and connects them to the power source. He’s done this before, but never on armor quite like this. It’s something he invented himself, a brilliant blue reactor that provides power to the suit itself and gives it enhanced capabilities. Over the years since he’d earned and modified his first suit of armor, the light had faded quite a bit, but now he’s fixing that, Tony admires the vibrancy. 

He works carefully, the paths have to be perfect. When fully powered up the reactor will give his whole suit a bright blue under-glow. Some people find it unsettling and he finds that works in his favor. Where Tony’s going, he’s going to need the intimidation factor.

He’s lost all track of time as he works relentlessly to finish. Finally the last pathway is laid, the final wire soldered into the armor plates. He dons it, checking the new display that he’d set into the forearm piece. The blue touch keys light up under his fingers. It’s a keyboard composed of shorthand symbols that only make sense to Tony. He taps one and here’s a whir as his new armor complies. 

A thrill runs through him to see his vision finally realized, but swift on the heels of elation comes exhaustion. He pulls the pieces off and sets them carefully aside. There’s a depressed earthen basin in his room full of warm water from the geothermal springs. He strips down to wash away the sweat and grime. He cleans his skin, finishing by dunking his head under and shaking off the excess droplet. Bathing complete, he drops onto his mat and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next day he finally puts the new suit over his leather and silk under armor. Leaving his quarters,he strides through the other Mandalorians, he can feel their gazes follow him. They’ve probably never seen anything like his armor before. He knows he’s going to attract attention wherever he goes now, but he’s given himself the firepower to handle it. He’s never been one to shrink back from public regard. 

He gathers extra ammo for the mission he’s started planning. He takes note of how much he’s taking.Tony’s been digging deep into the Mandalorian stores lately, but with the Beskar, he can easily replace it all and then some. He leaves the credits for the Armorer to find.

Tony spends another late hour working out the kinks and not bothering to sleep. He’ll sleep again when this is finished. Once he’s satisfied, he walks out of the enclave and onto his ship. As soon as the hangar door closes, he takes off.

Navarro  
Galactic Expansion Region  
A rocky volcanic world  
Republic Supply Outpost 

When he lands on the outer edge of the city, he’s long past thinking. Tony moves through the streets and other beings give him a wide berth. He knows he’s quite a sight with the gleaming red and gold armor and vibrant blue accents. 

There’s no question in his mind what he’s doing here, he’s going to get the kid, _his kid_. He’s not sure when exactly it had happened, but while he was remaking himself in the heat of the forge, he’s become certain of its truth.

He retreats again to the rooftop he’d done his initial surveillance from. Nothing seems to have changed. He didn't think they’d have moved the kid. There weren’t very many good places to hide, that still had access to the supply route that this settlement was on. 

Outside is a trash pile and he can see the ruined remains of the spider droid tossed carelessly atop it. It’s mangled beyond repair. Tony thinks of the kid fighting and feels a flash of pride. He watches until the sun settles overhead, making the afternoon air feel heavy. The few locals that would be out retreat to their homes, then Tony makes his move. 

He uses the chip Fury had given him on the door. Primary identification is complete, then the small optical unit extends to scan him. Tony catches it in his fist and rips it from its housing. The wiring inside is laid bare, and Tony reaches in, manipulating them until the door slides open.

Hydra soldiers meet him on the other side, blaster’s already firing as he steps through. Red shots ping harmlessly off his suit. Tony fires up the gauntlets at his palms, there’s a high pitched whine, followed by a satisfying burst of energy. Three of the soldiers tumble to the floor, felled by the concussive burst.

“Night, night.” He mutters stepping over the prone bodies. A fourth soldier ducks around the corner, shot going wild. 

Tony unsheathes his blaster, crouching low and using the wall to his advantage. The concealed soldier steps into the hall, firing. Tony grabs his wrist spinning the man into the wall before raising his palm and knocking the soldier out with a measured blast from the repulser. 

He strides toward the main room, inviting the remaining soldiers to fire on him. Tony shoots them with his blaster, aiming for the exposed soft tissue. It’s not a fair fight, not even close. He sees the Client try to duck behind the table. Tony flips it over for good measure, shooting several blasts from his left palm and following those up with fire from his blaser. The human element neutralized, he focuses on the droids. The remaining spider bots are firing on him from the ceiling, he takes them out with a EMP pulse, taking it down and the rest of the electronics with it. Tony knows that should slow anyone else down, especially if they planned to call for reinforcements.

The room cleared, Tony focuses on a set of metal doors set into the wall to his right. Metal was a curious material for an interior door. Unless you’re trying to hide something, something like a mad scientist and strangely enhanced teenager. This wall though didn’t appear any different from the thick plaster that made up the rest of the house.

Tony arms a small charge and sticks it to the wall. The blast sends a concussive vibration over his suit, the beskar diffuses the force. The outer shell of the wall falls away revealing more metal under the veneer. A metal room is even more suspect.

Unfortunately, for Hydra and Osborn, Tony’s former life has taught him all he needs to know about electronics. It takes him no time to locate the external control panel hidden under the cracked plaster and pry it open. He once again trips the wires to get inside, really he needs more of a challenge. As the silver door part, they open in a sleek lab. 

The room is dominated by a large silver table and the boy stretched limply across it. He doesn’t so much as flinch, strapped down under steel. A tube runs under his nose. Of course. Drugged. 

The kid almost looks the same as when Tony delivered him, still in the same dirty, oversize clothing. Almost, if not for the large rectangular strips of flesh gone from the kid’s right arm, exposing the tissues underneath. Tony can’t make out if the boy is still breathing and the kid lies deathly still. 

Tony is so shocked that he stops, drops his arms, forgets about everything. He stares for a moment, until the boy takes an excruciatingly slow breath in. Definitely still alive then. A movement in his peripheral vision had him spinning. Doctor Octavius, rising from where he was crouched in the corner of the room. Remembering the strange metal arms that had appeared from the man’s back, Tony lifts his blaster, keeping them trained on Octavius as he inches his body between the scientist and his subject. 

“What did you do?” Tony bites out, jerking his helmeted head toward the table. 

“Nothing. Nothing!” The Doctor answers, holding up his hands. He takes a careful step forward.

“What happened to his arm?”

“Just samples,” Dr. Octavious says in a placating tone as he continues to move toward Tony. “I’m the reason he’s still alive.”

That makes Tony pause, it’s a mistake that’s nearly fatal. 

Tony sees a flash of silver over the Doctor’s shoulder and reacts by shooting Octavious with his blaster. He meets the man’s eyes, they're wild under the glass of the goggles. Metallic arms that end in sharp claws now flail around the man’s body. Tony shoves the Doctor away with a growl. Octavious falls backward and crashes into a metal tray, sending the contents skittering across the metal floor. 

Tony hurries to the table and releases the restraints, pulling the tubes from the kid’s face. He can’t take the kid out with open wounds, but he might be running out of time. He quickly searches through the supplies nearby, yanking out bacta spray and bandages.

He quickly but gently sprays and cleans the cuts , then wraps the arm tightly in the sterile white bandages. As Tony secures the end of the dressing the kid’s eyes flutter open. The boy blinks slowly, eyes drifting about the room.

He sees Tony and panic flares in his eyes before he rolls sluggishly away, bracing himself on his good side. Tony keeps his hands to himself now, letting the kid get his distance and his bearings. An imaginary countdown ticks in Tony’s head, for when reinforcements for Hydra might arrive. The kid pushes himself into a sitting position, taking in the disarray of the lab and wide open doors. 

“Easy, kid.” Tony says gently, but the boy is already getting ready to try to stand up by himself.

The kid watches him warily, the way Tony wishes he had at the beginning, but now it only brings a flash of pain. 

“I can fix this.” Tony says quietly, not really sure who exactly he’s trying to reassure. Himself or the boy.

The kid pushes himself up and off the table, but his legs buckle. Tony rushes to catch him and keep him from hitting the floor. 

He recognizes the kid’s determination to walk out of here on his own two feet and he respects it. Tony wraps his arm around the kid’s waist, bracing his slight weight against the armor. Together they shuffle out through the mangled doors. It's not until they’re outside that he notices that the kid doesn't have shoes. There’s nothing he can do about it right now.

The kid is leaning heavily but Tony holds on to him, matching his staggering steps. They’re about 100 meters away when the teenager’s strength finally falters. Tony catches him before he falls. 

He readjusts the kid, securing him against his side, before aiming back with his left hand. Tony doesn’t even spare a look as he unleashes a barrage of small rocket fire in the direction of the ruined doorway. The resulting explosion reduces anything left to ash and rubble.

Satisfied with the destruction, Tony scoops up the unconscious kid, making for his ship. He knows his time here is limited. If Hydra weren’t coming, that kind of display was bound to attract the local authorities, even in a backwater settlement.

He carries the kid aboard the Silver Centurion. NED spins around Tony’s feet in elated circles, trilling merrily.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. “Tony mutters, lifting the kid in his arms a bit higher. “ Now quiet down and let him rest or I’m going to sell you to the Tusken Raiders for scrap.”

He’s answered by muted beeping, but NED still seems undeterred in his excitement. 

The sturdy little droid follows along behind him as he places the kid on the bunk. Ned plants himself next to the bed and stays put, going into sentinel mode. 

Tony gets them off the ground, setting course for as far away from this planet as he can get. There’s going to be fall out and major repercussions from this. He’s not naive on that note. He’s burned his bridges with the Bounty Hunter’s guild for certain, but he was never a big team player anyway.

The Mandalorians though, that was family. Losing them would hurt. He can never go back, he’d bring too much scrutiny with him. He also can’t be sure that Hydra would stop looking for the kid and he couldn’t afford to draw that kind of attention to the Mandalorian Homeworld. His fellow Mandalorians might not approve of Tony’s action, but they follow the code and would recognize that sometimes, this is the way. 

While the boy rests, Tony finally does something he had been putting off. He has MAI run the kid’s vital information through the vast network of missing persons. Knowing that it would take some time to complete, he moves to take rough stock of the supply situation.

The kid needs new clothes and footwear and Tony has a few things he needs for the ship. He’ll make a list later. Right now, he’s overcome with exhaustion. It settles down deep in his bones. 

Once MAI has them set on course, Tony slips away back to the bunkroom. He sits across from the kid, and watches him sleep. 

He knows there may be no forgiveness for him after what he’s done, but the least Tony can do is make sure that the kid is safe, cared for. 

Tony slips off his helmet.

“MAI, lights off.” 

“Affirmative.” she answers and he’s cloaked in darkness. 

He’s tired, but he feels accomplished. He lays back on the pillow and sleeps for the first time in days. 

Tony wakes with a start. The bunkroom is still swathed in complete darkness. At first he’s not sure what woke him, but then he hears it, a soft keening from the other bunk.

The kid is thrashing, twisting under the thin blanket.

NED lets out a soft chirp. Tony steps over him, still posted in sentry duty at the side of the kid’s bed.

“Kid.” Tony whispers.

There’s no response. Tony kneels beside the bed, and reaches out in the dark to give the whimpering boy a shake. An arm almost hits him in the face, brushing past his nose as the kid cries out again. 

“Hey-” Tony tries again, to no avail. The kid’s clearly in the grips of a nightmare, the kind that’s difficult to shake. Tony knows something about that. He sets his jaw. Who knows what the kid had been subjected to once Tony had handed him over to Hydra? This was his fault, the guilt seeps deeper into his bones. 

A tremor goes through the kid’s body and he gasps awake, breathing heavily. The boy rolls to his side, body curling in on himself. Tony reaches for the kid’s good arm and takes it. The kid freezes, but his panicked breathing slows. 

Tony sighs heavily, then slips into the bunk, on top of the blanket, and pulls the kid close into his side.

“Sleep.” He orders quietly. 

There’s snuffling and he can feel wetness seeping into his shirt. The kid is crying. 

It wrenches something loose inside Tony, breaking it forever.

His hand slides up the kid’s side and cups his shoulder. 

“Listen. Listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Never again.” He whispers fervently. “I will never let you be in that situation again. I promise.”

A hand curls into the fabric of his shirt and he feels a nod. Right now, they both need contact and reassurance. For the first time in his life, this feels right, he has finally found a purpose. 

Tony falls back to sleep to the sound of the kid’s soft snuffles.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it really Thursday? @_@

Deep Space  
Aboard the Silver Centurion  
Heading Unspecified 

It's easy to lose track of time on the ship, with the stars flying by so MAI starts to slowly raise the lights after ten hours of darkness.

Tony slips from the bunk. He washes and changes out of his smokey clothes, in the quiet before MAI fully raises the lights. He puts on his helmet and then considers his new charge. 

He’s going to need food and a lot of it. And the kid is going to need new clothes and shoes. 

Tony checks his star chart and finds a Market on the small planet of Onderon. “MAI, set course for the Malgan Market and start me a shopping list.”

“Course set. I am currently taking inventory and will update with your preferences and Peter’s.”

“Peter? Who the hell is Peter?” Tony’s thrown. “Did we pick up a stowaway?”

“The adolescent male you brought aboard the ship. His name is Peter.” Her voice is gentle and sounds amused.

“What now? Why did he tell _you_ that and not me?” Tony grumps. Then it occurs to him. “Wait, he talks?”

“Affirmative.” She says sweetly.

“Why didn’t you tell _me_?” 

“He asked me not to.” She says simply.

Tony contemplates the fact that his AI had hidden information from him. Also that maybe _Peter_ hadn't been as naive as he'd originally thought. “Well shit.” 

“Language.” MAI admonishes. 

Tony rolls his eyes, gaining satisfaction from the gesture even if no one can see it. 

MAI speaks again, “I have the results from your earlier inquiry on missing persons. There were no exact matches so I have taken the liberty of expanding the age range of the subject. Would you like me to send the pertinent profiles to your data pad?”

Tony clenches his left hand as tension coils in his gut. “Go ahead,” his voice is rough.  
There’s a chime as MAI complies.

He takes a bracing breath before beginning to flip through the faces. There are seventy possible matches to the boy. Tony is about thirty in but so far none of them are even close to a match with the kid. He knows he should have done this earlier, but he’d been so focused on the money, he hadn’t wanted to consider that there might be someone out there searching for Peter, missing him. 

He turns the name over in his mind. Peter, it suits the kid. Tony continues scrolling through the pictures absently. He’s nearly to the end when he freezes. A very familiar face looks back at him, but not the kid’s, his own. 

Tony’s breath hitches, his grip on the pad tightening.There’s a sound from the back of the ship and Tony shuts down the pad, his heart racing. Another soft beep tells him that it’s just NED going into his diagnostic cycle. 

He exhales slowly, lost in thought. Sometimes the mask makes him forget that his real face, his vulnerable human one, is very recognisable across the galactic core. But that was before the War, before his parents had died in a shuttle accident- Before Jakku. 

Tony had seen the reports of his presumed death, heard the rumours, hell, he’d even fed into some of those rumours himself. But someone was out there, still looking for him. He was going to have to be even more careful now. He couldn’t risk being unmasked before he was ready. 

Onderon  
A Jungle World  
Inner Rim  
Home to the Malgan Marketplace

They land smoothly on Onderon and Tony makes preparations to go outside. Onderon was a jungle planet. The market had been carved out of the native rock over centuries and apart from becoming a bit muddy during the rainy season, merely boasted uncomfortable humidity. Tony adjusted his suit temperature settings accordingly. 

“I’m going out to get supplies. Anything you need, you ask MAI” He addresses Peter. He hasn’t let on yet that MAI has shared the kid’s secret with Tony. 

The kid doesn’t reply, but gives a careful nod, plucking at the bandage on his arm.

“Stay here.” Tony orders, but the kid doesn’t even pretend to listen. He follows Tony out onto the muggy planet surface, stopping beside him at the edge of the platform. He sways slightly, fingers curling in excitement, the oversize shirt he’s borrowed from Tony hangs loosely on his narrow shoulders. 

Tony sighs. “Fine, Just stick close, ok.”

The kid nods again and moves a handful of steps over to Tony’s side.

They walk through the marketplace together. The smell of cooking meat is strong, almost cloying with spice. Tony’s eyes flick over the cluttered stalls. There’s fabric and tools, all kinds of wires along with scrapped pieces of ships and land speeders. Even some counterfeit tech bearing the same Star-K logo - Tony knows the real thing when he sees it. None of this is what he’s looking for.

He has to pause every several steps to wait for the kid to catch up. Peter keeps stopping to listen to the sales pitches and examine the wares. He catches the boy running a curious finger over some silk thread. Tony sighs. 

“Come one kid, we don’t have all day.”

Peter listens and keeps walking beside Tony; but he spins in a full circle as he does, trying to get a look at the booths he’d missed.

Tony passes by the droid dealer and it’s just about that time that he notices that Peter is no longer beside him. He turns around, slightly alarmed. The kid is frozen, staring into the open air stalls. 

He follows the kid's gaze to the scrap dealer. He knows the kid had been tinkering with NED again. 

There’s a wooden stand outside the stall. It was filled to the brim with tiny jars of paint for droids.  
“You want those?” Tony asks, amused.

Peter doesn’t really respond, he just runs his fingers over the red canister. He then picks up a blue.

“Buy one, you get one half price!” The merchant booms merrily. A Bothan, he’s shorter than Tony with a proud, leonine face. 

The kid’s eyes sparkle. 

“How about two for one?” Tony counters.

“Oh, I couldn’t go that low.” The trader says consideringly. “But I could take one credit off, depending on how you're paying?”

Internally Tony sighs, he’s not even sure why he’s doing this because that shit’s expensive and they have a lot of other things to shop for first. 

He hands the merchant the coins. The Bothan trader’s eye widens at the Republic credits. Tony had the feeling that they weren’t easy to come by this far away from the larger worlds.

Tony tosses the jars to the kid, who seemed exceedingly pleased, catching and holding them reverently.Tony’s next purchase is a satchel for the kid so he can help carry their haul. 

As he watched Peter put the bright paint away, for the first time Tony recognizes how sterile the Silver Centurion is. There’s very little color on the ship and it had never bothered him before. But seeing Peter’s delight at the bright and bustling market was making Tony rethink his plan to keep him on board.

They finally make their way into the clothing stalls and pick new clothes for the boy. Tony starts by ordering the kid to pick out some boots. He’s been making do with a pair that Tony had laying around. They’d once belonged to another Asset and were a couple of sizes too big.

That sorted, they find Peter several pairs of leather pants and some basic shirts. A couple of vests, a belt and a jacket round out their purchases. Fortunately, Peter is on the smaller side. Since those sizes weren’t much in demand the shopkeepers were willing to make deals. 

They gather the rest of the supplies they need easily. All Tony has to do is flash his coin and people defer. He finds the familiarity disconcerting. It’s been a long time since he’s had this much cash on hand.

They haul their purchases, including fresh food onto the Silver Centurion. Everything is cataloged by MAI and stored in the appropriate bins. MAI does the calculations for the most efficient weight distribution for flight and they follow her instructions. 

By evening, the ship is loaded and ready to go. Peter’s worked hard and Tony decides to reward them both with a hot meal at the local tavern.They step inside and are immediately directed to a table. A few eyes slide their way, the armor attracts attention; but no one takes any obvious interest. 

He orders smoked kaadu to go for himself and shaak roast with cold noodles for the kid. Somehow it still surprises him how fast Peter polishes his plate. 

“Still hungry?” The kid nods vigorously and Tony chuckles. He catches the server's attention and asks for another round. 

As they wait, Tony scans the room out of habit. There are families here, enjoying the hot food and the company. Small children dart about laughing. Tony couldn’t personally identify with that kind of happiness. His own father had been distant and cool, utterly preoccupied with work. Certainly not the best role model. 

His gaze strays to Peter, who is also watching the families, a kind of wistful look on his face. Tony swallows thickly. What does he know about building a family? 

Tony is interrupted from his thoughts when the server delivers the fresh order for Peter. The kid wastes no time digging in. Having seen him eat enough times, Tony figures this won’t take long. 

The kid is mid-bite when he freezes, spitting the mouthful back into the bowl. A few seconds later the door opens behind them. Tony slowly turns to look. 

Bounty hunters, at least three. He doesn't know them but he knows the type. They’re the sort that was too rough with the Assets and not part of any reputable guild.

That’s not what spurs him to action though, it's the red flash of a biotracker. They’re scanning the room, but they haven't spotted him yet. He grabs Peter by the elbow and pulls him off his stool. 

“Stay down.” He whispers to the kid.

The kid listens, following Tony’s lead. They crawl along beside the edge of the bar and slip behind it. The bartender startles as they slink past him, but a few coins left on a low shelf keeps him quiet. Tony pulls Peter into the kitchen. The startled cooks stop what they’re doing to watch. One with his tentacles stirring multiple pots, grunts at them, annoyed. 

“Is there a back way out?” Tony wants to know and flashes still more coins. 

A small green guy points a phalange to a nondescript door behind them and coos in delight as Tony drops the credits on the counter in front of him. “If anyone asks, you haven’t seen us.”

He adds a few Republic credits for good measure.

They burst out of the back, racing toward the ship. “Let’s go!” Tony hisses urgently. Peter doesn’t have to be told twice. 

Tony charges up the ramp into the Silver Centurion, Peter close at his heels and glancing urgently behind them. Tony instructs MAI to close the hatch as soon as they clear it.

Tony heads straight to the cockpit, ordering MAI to start up the engines and initiate the sequence to get them off world. It’s almost too easy as they lift away from the surface and accelerate into the atmosphere.

An alarm goes off overheard, accompanied by mauve flashing lights. 

“Ships in pursuit.” MAI informs him.

Tony pulls up a display, “Ok, what have we got?”

“One Incom Corsair and two Lancer-class pursuit crafts,” she tells him.

He moves from his seat and grabs the kid by the shoulders. “Sit here, strap in, and do what I tell you.” He orders.

Peter obeys, worry flickering across his pale face under the blinking red lights.

“Throttle that back.” Tony growls out and the kid listens, reducing the hyper static drag so they can pick up speed.

Tony rolls the Silver Centurion and NED skitters sideways with an alarmed beep before releasing his magnetic clamps and locking himself to the flooring. 

Tony begins evasive maneuvers, shooting into hyperspace, then slowing abruptly. Two of the pursuing ships shoot past overhead. The third, sensing the feint, slows with them. 

“MAI, can we hyper-jump?” Tony bites out, doing everything he can to shake the other ships.

“We have sufficient power for a single jump and I would suggest that you make it count. At current speeds and power levels, we won’t be able to outrun them in open space.”

“Yeah, I figured that out already,” He snarked, busily plugging in the coordinates. If they’re lucky, they won’t be followed for long.

The front viewer blurs temporarily as they launch into hyperspace. The stars streak by in a twinkling blur. Tony takes a moment to glance at Peter. The kid's lips are pressed in a thin line, tension evident in his clenched jaw. Peter’s eyes are flicking over the viewscreen as if he can see things in the haze that Tony can’t. 

The view outside suddenly stabilizes and Tony sucks in a breath. He’d meant to come here, but the view is still unsettling.

They’ve jumped into a ship graveyard. There’s everything here, from battered X-wings to gutted Imperial destroyers. It makes for a lot of places to hide.

“Two ships still in pursuit.” MAI informs him. Tony swears. 

He didn’t think they’d dare follow him here. There must be quite a price on his head, him and the kid. He’d expected it but not so soon. He wracks his brain and turns his ship. On the outer edges of the graveyard lay a cloud of space dust, maybe that would give them the cover they needed to escape.

One of the ships on his tail fires a warning shot. It’s not at full strength but it rocks the Centurion, breaking loose a panel that drops behind them. NED trills in alarm. 

Tony desperately diverts power from nonessential programs to the impulse thrusters.

They slide into the glittering cloud, hopefully out of sight of the other bounty hunter’s ships.

“MAI?” Tony asks, hoping they can hide here. There’s silence, when she finally answers, it’s not what he wants to hear.

“The other ships are continuing with their pursuit.”

This is dangerous but Tony ups the speed, moving them deeper into the cloud. The other ships mimic him and begin to close in. He swears. “How close? He demands of the AI. 

“The particulates are interfering with my readings.”

Suddenly, Peter reaches out and jerks the yoke sideways, out of Tony’s grip, just as an artifact appears out of the dust, directly in their path. There’s a squeal as metal meets metal and the belly of the Centurion rakes across the object. Somehow they manage to clear it. 

They roll out of the cloud, the last of the space dust streaking past the windows like shooting stars.

Nothing appears behind them and the others must have hit the object he and Peter had narrowly avoided. Tony hadn’t even seen it.

He sits in shock, trying to quiet his breathing and work out how in the hell…

“How?” He finally asks, staring at Peter “How did you know it was there?”

The kid offers a sullen shrug and doesn’t meet Tony’s gaze. 

“That’s amazing.” He finally marvels, “You knew before too. You can sense danger.”

Peter nods, looking up hopefully at Tony’s tone. For the first time Tony wonders how Peter was treated before. The kid’s abilities are uncanny. He doubted someone so different had been met with much kindness in his life. Certainly never by Hydra. The thought sobers him. 

“You did good, Kid.”

Peter ducks his head, then smiles. He opens his mouth, like he might actually say something, but NED lets out a loud squeal and releases his magna-clamps. 

The sound releases the tension like a spring and Tony laughs, Peter joins him. When they’ve gotten control of themselves, Tony sighs. He doesn’t really mind the silence. He’s come to recognize they’re both wearing their own kinds of masks. 

“We’re going to have to be careful going forward. I have a plan though.” Tony says. “Or the start of one anyway.”

Peter nods slowly, eyes wary. 

“MAI, set course for Nal Hutta.” Tony hopes he can still find what he’s looking for when they get there.


	7. Chapter 7

Deep Space  
Aboard the Silver Centurion  
On Course for Nal Hutta

After breakfast the next morning, Tony goes into his personal quarters and takes out the case containing the remaining beskar. He counts it again and does the math. He should have enough. Enough to set the kid up for life and then go back to Coruscant and finish what he’s originally been planning since he’d been saved on that desert planet so many years ago. 

He knows instinctively that Yinsen wouldn’t have approved. The other man would have told him not to waste his life on the pursuit of vengeance, but if all goes according to this new plan, that’s all he’s going to have left. The list of people he can trust now is exceedingly short, but if he’s lucky, he can find the person he’s looking for. 

He puts on his mask and goes out into the common area. 

NED is changed now, the kid’s cleaned him up nicely. The metal on the small droid has been meticulously repainted, the red plating gleams in the artificial light. Red with blue trim and detail. A bit of an eyesore Tony thinks privately, but Peter seems pleased.

NED chirps and beeps happily at the boy, seemingly aware of his improved looks.

The bandage is gone from Peter’s arm. So is the gaping wound. The skin is perfect, there isn’t even a scab, much less a scar. The kid heals fast, then. Tony adds it into the puzzle he’s building, the pieces are there, but he can’t quite put together the picture yet.

He decides it’s time to eat and offers the kid a few ronto wraps and some grenadia fruits. The time continues to slide by slowly, Tony finds himself thinking of ways to occupy it. Peter is beyond smart, maybe he has something that could challenge him. 

Tony checks their progress, six hours out at their current speed. He goes to the back of the ship and digs around in a storage unit until he finds what he’s looking for. It’s a Cesa board with all the pieces. He’d picked it up after observing a tournament of Goroth Prime. He’s never had an opportunity to play it before. Never had a reason to want to.

He brings it out and sets it down in front of the kid. “You ever played before? It’s like Dejarik, only more complicated.”

Peter shakes his head, but smiles. 

Tony explains the rules and walks Peter through it a few times before they start playing in earnest. It brings back bittersweet memories for Tony, but it helps pass the time. The kid really seems to enjoy it, quickly picking up some of the finer points of strategy. Eventually, Tony finds himself having fun. He wishes it could last.

Nal Hutta  
A hot, swamp planet  
Outer Rim

When they arrive at Nal Hutta, Tony lands the ship on the outskirts of a steaming bog. MAI computes that the springy soil would hold the Silver Centurion’s weight and Tony trusts her assessment. This is a swamp planet, prone to greasy rains. All of the combined unpleasantness, makes it a haven for those wishing not to be found.

Tony gets ready to go out alone. But Peter, as usual, hovers close at his side. 

“Kid, listen to me, stay here. It’s not safe out there.” He reasons, but the kid shakes his head sharply, setting his jaw in a way that Tony is coming to recognize as sheer stubbornness.

“Fine.” He relents. “Just stick close.” The kid doesn't have to be told twice. He scrambles down the gangway. 

Tony finds the hut well off the beaten path. He gives a sharp knock on the dilapidated door and listens for a response. He cautiously steps inside. It appears abandoned, but he knows looks can be deceiving. There are books and other paper clutter strewn around the single room and what looks to be a large nest of rags in the corner.

“Bruce?” He whispers, his hand sliding down to his blaster. Tony whistles through his teeth. “Hey, big boy.”

The pile of cloth shifts and spills away from a hulking, green form. 

Peter startles at the sight of Bruce. He slides behind Tony, but also out of reach. 

“Mando.” The greeting is polite yet cautious. 

“You’re alive!” Tony couldn’t keep the elation out of his voice. He’d genuinely liked Bruce and once they’d gotten past the whole Asset and Bounty Hunter wrinkle, they’d gotten along like a house afire. 

The green guy’s face splits into a grin. “What are you doing these days, Mando? Coming back for the one that got away? Last I saw you, you were maybe thinking about trying to collect a bounty on me,”

“Yeah.” Tony shrugs. “But that was before I knew you,” he teases. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Peter presses against Tony’s back, as though he’s trying to stay out of sight.

That twists something in Tony’s gut, guilt burns in his chest. He can fix this, he will fix it, but it’s going to take time. 

Bruce’s body is big and green and scary, but he has the brain of a scientist. 

“Here’s the kid.” He drags the boy out from behind him. “His name is Peter, apparently, but don’t expect him to tell you that. He doesn’t talk, really. At least not to me.”

If Peter’s startled that Tony knows his name, he doesn’t show it. He’s too busy trying to make himself as small as possible. Tony imagines MAI must have told him his secret was out anyway.

“That’s all right. As I recall you talk enough for two people,” the green guy says with a sly smile at Tony before turning to the kid. “Hi Peter”, Bruce says kindly. His smile softens his face.

Peter offers up an uncertain wave. 

Tony decides some explanations are in order. “I met Bruce when he was on the run from some crazed noble from Sakaar. That was four years ago? Give or take?”

“Something like that. Time kind of blends together out here,” Bruce sighs tiredly.

“Is that regret?”

“Oh absolutely not. I love living in a hovel, on a swamp planet that smells like rotten eggs year round.” Bruce deadpans. “But where else would I go? I don’t exactly blend.” 

The last part is said with bitterness and has Tony frowning under the helmet. He’s always assumed Bruce was happy with the way things shook out, but maybe that’s not quite the case. Unfortunately, he needs Bruce's mind on more pressing matters. “You up for some sciencing?” 

Bruce brightens at that. “Always.”

Tony explains Peter's abilities the best he can remember. Bruce listens, fascinated, already starting to scrawl down notes and theories in giant handwriting on loose paper. Tony’s just getting to the danger senses when Peter’s stomach lets out a growl. 

Bruce produces a pot of stew and some surprisingly clean bowls from under the clutter, that Tony finally recognizes is actually skillfully arranged to hide and protect the big guy’s meager possessions.

Peter eats while Bruce starts to talk through Tony’s revelations.

“I think they’ve done something to his DNA.” He says finally.

Tony startles, “You think he’s a clone?”

“I don’t know.” Bruce looks deeply thoughtful. “I mean, maybe? But you said he can climb walls? He’s strong for his size and there’s the organic matter he shoots from his forearms, right.”

Tony confirms “It’s sticky too.”

Bruce hums in thought. “I think it’s some kind of arachnid. I mean, they’re out there. I’ve even seen some big ones. Utaupa, Taris, Atollen. I’ve heard rumors about some in Endor, they keep the mammal population in check.”

Tony turns and stares at Peter. The kid still looks perfectly normal. “You think they made him part spider?”

Bruce shrugs, “Born or made. They’ve engineered him somehow. Maybe he can tell you.”

He gestures to the kid who’s currently on his third bowl of soup.

“Yeah, he’s not talking.” Frankly, Tony’s used to it by now, but he’s still hoping the kid will come out of his shell.

Bruce looks at Peter too. Peter’s frozen and self consciously turning pink under their collective gaze.

The big guy rises abruptly, but with surprising grace. He reaches under a pile of papers and finds a round box.

“I was saving this, but I think you need it more.” He holds out a ration tin, “it’s sweet cake.” Bruce lifts the lid off and Peter gets a look inside. 

He gingerly breaks off a piece and smiles in thanks.

When Peter goes back to eating, Tony takes Bruce's arm and pulls him aside. It’s more like Bruce allows himself to be pulled because there’s no real moving him where he doesn’t want to go.

Tony drops his voice down low.“Listen Bruce, you know I’ve always been a fan. Especially how you can do ...what you do.” He gestures. “Really came in handy when we had to break out of that prison ship.”

“What is it you want, Mando?” Bruce uses the shortened form, matching Tony’s low tone.

“I’ve just been thinking that maybe he can stay here, with you.” He nods toward Peter.

Bruce immediately starts shaking his head. “I don’t know Tony. I still have… episodes. I can’t keep a kid.”

Frustration boils over, “And I can?”

“Clearly he trusts you and if anyone can keep him safe, it’s you,”

“I can’t keep him.” Tony hisses. “Not with the kind of life I lead. I’m going to get him killed. Or worse.”

It’s something Tony has been wrestling with from the very beginning. Surely this kid would be better off just about anywhere besides with him. He hadn’t even been able to keep himself safe. 

Bruce says something back and Tony thinks it’s supposed to be reassuring, but he’s no longer listening, he’s watching the kid. The boy is staring at him, betrayal shining in his eyes. Tony’s shocked Peter could even hear them.

Bruce suddenly sees it too, “ I think you need to add enhanced hearing to your list.”

“Kid,” Tony starts but the boy is moving toward the door of the hut. The lines of his body radiating hurt. Peter throws the door open, ready to head out into the night when his body goes stock still in a motion Tony recognizes. The kid quickly closes the door, his eyes meeting Tony’s, wide with warning.

“Get down and out of the way.” The Mandalorian snaps to Peter before turning to Bruce.“Someone’s here. Get ready.”

No sooner had he gotten the words out than a bounty hunter bursts through the door, Bruce let’s out an enraged roar just as Tony shoots the hunter down. A small black box flies lands near Bruce's feet. The red light at the center is blinking rapidly.

“What is that?” Bruce asks. 

“It’s a tracker.”Tony steps on it, crushing it under his boot. “They found him. Dammit,” he hisses. 

“Watch out!” The kid shouts suddenly. His voice is overly loud, then cracks altogether. 

“Oh, now you talk to me.” Tony shouts as he dodges incoming blaster fire. He whirls, firing at a leather-clad Ongree. A white hot blast grazes his armor but it holds. 

“Shit, there’s two of them.” Tony drops down, aiming into the darkness. There’s a grunt as he hits his target ”Bruce!” he shouts.

The big guy lets out a feral roar and charges out of his hut, grabbing the small armored bounty droid and smashing it to the ground where it explodes into a thousand pieces.

The silence aftermath is broken by the three of them catching their breath.

“Mando.” Bruce finally says, his voice wary.

“I know.” He turns to Bruce, “As long as they’re out there, he’ll never be safe.” Tony finally acknowledges the thought that had lurked unspoken 

“Where will you go?” Bruce frets. “Where can you go? Is there anyone that can help?”

“Probably not.” Tony sighs, looking from Bruce to Peter.

It’s time. He slowly detaches the armor on his right arm, slipping it off and setting it on the floor. He undoes the arm covering, pulling it over his hand. He touches the pads of his bare fingers to the bottom of his helmet and there’s soft hissing noise as it reads his print and detaches from the neck piece. 

He lifts the Mandalorian helmet off and away. The dim light still hurts his eyes and he squints for a moment. When he is finally able to focus, Bruce is staring at him with slack jawed recognition. 

Peter is watching curiously, his eyes tracing over Tony’s features, the moment clearly lost on him. 

“You...you’re..” Bruce is stumbling over his words, clearly recognizing Tony’s face. Most of the universe would.

The big guy finally settles for “You’re not dead.” 

Tony can’t stop the smirk that twists his lips, there’s no humor behind it. “Not for lack of people trying to kill me.”

There’s a clearing of a throat, then a rusty voice that Tony could already recognize anywhere. “I don’t understand.” Peter’s eyebrows are raised in question. He looks older, more mature. The regular meals and rest finally catching up with him. 

Something bright and happy takes root in Tony’s chest. He’s proud of this kid.

Bruce opens and closes his mouth for a moment before deciding on his words. “He’s the heir to the Starkiller fortune. The one who supposedly died on Jakku.” 

“They’ve re-branded now. Haven't you heard?” Tony smiles without mirth. “No more “Starkiller” business. It’s Star-K now apparently. Obie always was good with the spin.”

“You’re gonna go back?” Bruce is slowly recovering from the shock.

“That’s the plan.” Tony lifts his helmet back into place. “What do you say, kid? Wanna go shake things up on Coruscant?”

Peter shrugs, a smirk plays at his lips. “Sure, not like I have anything better to do.” He folds his arms over his chest.

Tony laughs, free and loud; he has a feeling he’s not going to miss the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks to everyone who enjoyed this story and left comments. You all made me feel the love. <3  
> In my brain is a LOT more story to tell in this universe, but I ended it here because I wasn't sure if was something people would be interested in and enjoy. Hopefully you did and if you did, drop me a comment:)  
> The cautious plan going forward is to continue the universe in several one shot episodes that should play out like a chapter. It will be a bit though because I have some other things to work on.  
> Some fun trivia:  
> I used Wookiepedia a lot so that's a fun resource if you ever want to dip your toe into the Star Wars universe.  
> The "Silver Centurion" is MCU Tony's Mark 33 Ironman armor. It was part of the Iron Legion in the movies and I thought it would make a cool ship name. The armor also appeared in the comics for only 33 issues.  
> In my head the ship looks a lot like a Quinjet.  
> "Starkiller" was the originally the name George Lucas was going to use for Luke, instead of Skywalker. Not implying any relationship there but it is an homage to the creation of Star Wars. Because it fit the story and also I am a nerd:D  
> The emergency lights on Tony's ship are "mauve" instead of red as an homage to Dr Who, in which the 9th Doctor states that a mauve alert is universal for the highest level of danger.  
> When Tony makes breakfast, he has smoked meat and eggs with green yolks so *cough* green eggs and ham. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night.

**Author's Note:**

> I have some BIG thank yous.  
> The biggest most major thank you is to Grace_d (reachingforaspark) This work is ten thousand times better because of her influence. She gave me the gift of her time and I can't thank her enough. It's impossible but I try. <3 The best writer and editor ever and my very dear friend.  
> Thank you so much to my IronDad Discord, there has never been a more wonderful group of people. Kind, encouraging and wicked smart, love you guys.  
> Thank you so much to blondsak and seekrest who convinced me to write this. I'm still not exactly sure how that happened ¬_¬ They have powers that defy explanation. ;)


End file.
